Acts of Sedition
by primadonna cat
Summary: Sam and Dean have a long history of keeping secrets from each other. While spending a year together at Sam's request, will they learn to open up about their deepest needs and dreams. This is NOT Wincest nor Teen!Chester fiction. Takes place in 2001.
1. Chapter 1

Sam has ulterior motives for wanting a normal senior year. Dean enjoys the mini-vacation from the life. This is not a "teenChester" fic at all !!! It is Dean-centric, and my attempt to explore writing in first person.

The characters within are the fictional creations of Eric Kripke (Sam and Dean Winchester) and myself. Their views and actions are fictional and do not neccessarily represent mine.

_Acts of Sedition_

_Chapter One_

Kansas City, Missouri, September 19, 2001

It was 4:30 in the afternoon and I'd just opened a beer when I heard the sound of the latch turning on the apartment door. I traded my beer for my gun, sliding it to the side of the table so no precious drops of alcohol would be wasted should I have to bring my weapon up quickly. My dad had always taught me to be at the ready. Never treat any situation as ordinary. I leaned back affecting casualness and waited. But there was no threat stepping over the threshold, just my little brother.

Except he wasn't so little anymore. Seems all he did in the last four years was grow, to the point where we could share clothes, if I were so inclined to his slightly preppy look. You could rest assured this older brother wouldn't be taking any hand-me-downs from him. Even if we had always been desperately poor, there's a limit to how much a man can endure before it takes his pride.

I wondered where Sam had been. Last I remembered schools let out closer to 2 or 3. And I'd spent more than enough time clock watching to have that exit time down. Knowing Sam, he'd stayed for an extra study session or something involving research, libraries, or books. It wasn't likely he'd snuck off with a girl behind the bleachers. Hell, if he'd done that, I would have cheered.

But not Sam. No need to worry about him doing something unsafe or stupid. No real reason for me to be here watching out for him. Sam was the same age as a college freshman or a military recruit, and more capable of taking care of himself than either. But I was the older one, the one given the charge at age four to take care of my baby brother. Old habits die hard.

He had to have known I was home, the Impala, my beautiful black Chevy, sat in her parking space just outside the door. Sam entered casually, checking the hallway before closing the door and locking the dead bolt. In seconds he'd see me and jump to conclusions like a jealous wife. Sam's prone to drama, I'm hoping it's a teen thing, cos I don't handle drama well, and he needs to outgrow it. Knowing my brother inside and out is just the way it is and has been since we were small. So I know when to preempt a strike. His mouth opened and I intercepted.

"Is this when you normally get home from school?" I interrogated him with my best stern fatherly look. He cocked one eyebrow and looked to the clock on the VCR; then back to me. His gaze falling to the bottle of beer in my hand.

"Aren't you suppose to be at work? Dean." There was a pause that carried a weight of accusation with it, he was clever, that arguing teen snit! "Tell me you didn't get fired?" His face was held in a mask of anger, accusing me without letting me explain. Drama!

"What?" Geez Sam was overprotective of the job he took full responsibility for getting me. Which was stupid, sure he'd scoured the want ads, told me what to wear, but he sat in the car while I interviewed. It was my job, not his.

Sam slung his back pack down on the kitchen table narrowly missing my evil beer. He showed his disapproval in the form of a tight lipped glare before plopping down in the aged wooden chair he'd purchased at a yard sale the week before. Just one of many signs that this was the year things were going to go his way, he'd found not only the old beaten up dining set, but the very apartment it now set in.

Despite my protests that I was more than happy to run credit card fraud and pool hustles to keep us in the black, Sam had studied want ads and found me what he considered the perfect fit. A mechanics position at a local garage. I have to admit, after the first real paycheck, being a working man wasn't so bad. It felt great to not be down to the last twenty with no idea where the next bit of money was coming from.

Further signs that this year was going to be as planned out by the master geek: He'd researched the high school he knew would serve his needs, he fabricated the records and the transcripts. As I sat with him in the registrar's office, I knew he'd been planning this for years. I'd do anything for Sammy. Yes, this was his year, his senior year and his last chance to make good before attempting to apply to college…..

And leave our family. Oh, he hadn't said it in so many words, but then, why does a guy who says he only wants his HS diploma take AP classes? It was early in the school year, but soon I'd have to have a talk with him about his future, our future as hunters.

I looked up from the newspaper spread before me to see Sam fixing me with a steely glare. It might move mountains, but not me. Not after eighteen years of it. Little did Sam know, I had just returned home from my nineteenth day on the job, a personal best in my run of legitimacy, and had opened up the paper to search for random odd news. There were stories of minor crimes occurring around the city, but most of the news still surrounded the national grief surrounding the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon that had occurred the week before.

Sam was at first wary it may have been a sign of demonic possession. But Dad had called and put his worries to rest. Buzz in the hunting community was that it was everything it appeared to be-a terrorist threat. Only a few radical hunters were sticking to the possession theory. Me? Never believed it for a second. There's plenty of random unpredictable shit in this world, and the majority of it has no supernatural connection what-so-ever.

Five days ago was the last I'd heard from Dad. And the old man was very clear that he wasn't happy with his eldest's choice to drop out and hang with little brother for a year. "When _was_ dad ever happy with me?" I thought.

Sam had opened his bag and pulled out a fat textbook and a notepad.

"Wanna help with my latest assignment?"

"Not exactly." Sam ignored me and flipped through several pages of poems coming to rest on one that looked particularly long, still, I wasn't in the least bit interesting. "Did my time. An' anyways, poetry's not my thing."

"Honestly Dean, just think of it as a song lyric and it'll be cool."

"Who's it by…some moaning chick that never got laid?"

"Maybe." Sam smirked. "It's actually a guy. Keats…and I really don't want to know about his sex life or lack there of. You'll like this one. I picked it myself. See we could choose any Keats to analyze as along as it went along with the historical age of reason. This one…guess what it's called?"

"Dude…could you be more a geek?"

"Lamia" Sam's eyes brightened. "Dad ever talk about a Lamia?"

"You're tellin' me some dude wrote a poem about a lamia?"

"Keats"

"Was he a hunter?"

"I don't think so….."Sam rubbed his chin thoughtfully…"Funny how a regular guy chooses to write about a creature."

"That's cos the dumb ass never knew it was real."

"So you think they could really exist?"

"Hard to say." Hunting odd monsters, that was a topic I never tired of, but I wasn't about to get sucked into analyzing poetry via a discussion on the creature that inspired the one at Loch Ness. My days with school were over. It wasn't my fault that Sam insisted he take the AP class, right down to fabricating his junior year transcript to look like he'd gotten straight A's in English three years in a row. Hard to get straight A's when the longest stint at a school was nine weeks. But give the kid A+ for effort. Education was everything to Sammy, and his desire to know more always came in handy when researching all the weird crap we came across routinely.

"If you think I'm gonna help you to crack the code on this lame ass poem then you'd better get me another beer." Sam was in the middle of doing just that when one of our cell phones rang. It wasn't intentional that we had matching ringtones, it's just, we'd bought them on a two for one sale. The sound was coming from Sam's bag. If Sam had a call it wasn't likely from Dad; he usually contacted me first.

"This is Sam, who's this?" I understood the other side of the conversation through a series of facial expressions Sam wore. His forehead was all wrinkled up. "What kind of favor?" Sam caught my concern and turned his back on me. "No, do your own work." He closed the phone forcefully and nearly threw it on the table.

"What was that about?"

"Some asshole gave out my number and now it's going around that I'll do homework for money. What the hell?"

"Dude, that's a totally easy way to make money."

"Yeh, and it's also an easy way to get expelled."

"You got me there. Take it easy Sam, it's just typical High School BS. I'm sure you'd kick his ass in a fight."

"Is that all there is to you? Is that your pep talk…you can take him Sam. Sounds like some macho thing Dad would say."

"Well, you could." I shrugged. "Bruce Banner was always pretty geeky till he got angry, Bruce Wayne's kinda like that too. Which one are you, the Incredible Hulk, or Batman?"

"Neither, I'm just me." Sam returned to the table and opened up his Lit book. "You with me on this?"

He began to read the poem out loud. There's nothing I hate more than someone reading to me like I can't do it myself. Reminds me of all the remedial reading teachers of my past.

"Give me that." I interrupted and I grabbed the book from his hand faster than he had time to affect his patented "bitchface". The book closed, but as fate would have it, I opened it again right to the same poem, just not the beginning, and I read in my best impression of a stuffy tight-assed professor straight out of Oxford:

_LOVE in a hut, with water and a crust_

_Is—Love, forgive us!—cinders, ashes, dust_

_Love in a palace is perhaps at last_

_More grievous torment than a hermit's fast:—_

_That is a doubtful tale from faery land_

_Hard for the non-elect to understand_

"It's moments like this that I treasure my GED." I tossed the book back at him and got up to walk the total of maybe fifteen steps that separated the kitchen from the living room. "Time for some mindless TV." I called over my shoulder as I abandoned Sam to his dreary condition.

"Dean." He whined. "You know, you read that really well. You surpri---"

I cut him off before he stuck his foot in his mouth. "What Sam? Finish your thought for ya?. Read that really well for someone who never completed High school. Is that what you want to say? Is this why it's so important to share your homework with me? So I won't feel stupid, or is this just to make you seem real smart?"

Sam stared. His mouth was open. Finally, in some sort of disgusted turn of events he shook his head and continued. This time, I was convinced his words were genuine. I think I stopped him before he really warmed up to full on condescension.

"Dean. What do you think it means?"

"Some dude was in love and he was pretty sure that no one else would ever understand why he felt the way he did." I had the remote in hand and had already channel surfed the eight channels we were so honored to receive. I wanted cable; Sam argued it was a waste of money. I was pretty sure I was calling the cable company tomorrow after Sam left for school. If this was any indication of how our evenings were going to be spent this year, I wanted nothing of it.

"You think it's that simple?"

"Yeh, I do." I shot back at him with equal sarcasm. "Know why? Because in this world there is free love and then there's forbidden love. And forbidden love takes on all kinds of disguises, but in the end…everyone just gets their heart broken. One way or another." I wasn't going to tell him about Cassie, the girl I'd met in Ohio two years ago, but I supposed it was safe enough to mention Dad and Mom. "Like our parents."

Sam's face grew solemn. "Have you heard from Dad?"

"Not since last week. I thought that might be him when your phone rang, glad it wasn't. He's been giving me shit about this. Thinks this whole arrangement is just a phase." I paused to gauge Sam's response. Sam offered nothing; so I continued. "You've got time to prepare your argument. He said he'll probably swing by in a week or two. Sam, try to not be so…on the offensive with the guy. He just wants you safe."

"Why? Because I need to watch out for that super scary thing that killed Mom?" He slammed his book to the table. "I'm so tired of running Dean. So tired of the lies. I'm not going to make excuses for wanting to have one normal year at one high school. No, this goes my way." He was pacing now. "So are you with me or not?"

"I told you. I'd stay this year, let you have this one year. Dad's gonna be angry, but just let me talk to him. Okay? I'll help him understand why this is so important to you. He'll listen to me, besides, you'll just get into some ugly fight and I don't want to be in the middle."

"Dean, you're always in the middle, but thanks anyways." He hung his head. "Sorry I was a jerk about the poem. Maybe it is about not being able to love the one you want."

"Cos if you can't be with the one you love, honey, love the one you're with." I sang. Sam let me know how much he loved that tune by promptly smothering me with a pillow from the couch. He was down on the floor in a head lock in less than ten seconds. But there was laughter in his eyes as I offered him a hand off the floor. "Don't let yourself get soft, little bro."

"Never!" A swift sweep of his legs had me on my back and Sam laughing again. Of course, I wasn't one to be outdone. He was still the student; so I rolled him over my head. He wasn't used to such long legs and failed to tuck them in. His boots smacked the drywall. Miraculously there was only the slightest indentation from his right heel, but there was an impressive scuff mark that we'd have to paint over if we had any hopes of getting our security deposit back. But who was I kidding? This was only September. I was pretty sure there'd be a complete hole in at least one wall by the end of this lease.

*********

A/N: This story is about 15 chapters long.


	2. Chapter 2: Scott's Auto Center

_Acts of Sedition_

_A/N: In Chapter one we learn that Dean and Sam are spending Sam's senior year in Kansas City, Missouri. Dean has taken a job as a mechanic at a local garage. Will he have a chance to be normal?_

_**Chapter Two**_

_Scott's Auto Center_

"Hey, Dean, you wanna come in here a minute." I wiped my hands on a shop rag and followed the boss into the office of the garage where we worked. I was preparing for the worst; thinking of a hundred excuses to tell Sam for why I was such a loser that I got fired after less than a month. Sam would be so pissed, Dad would say 'I told you so…"

Getting called into the office was too much like being called to the principal's or worse, having a face to face with Dad. Had someone called to report their wheel had fallen off because I'd forgotten to tighten the lug nuts? Had there been an accident caused by my inability to replace a brake line? I swallowed the possible horrors that I was imagining and put a casual grin on my face. Never let them see you sweat.

But I guess my game face wasn't so good after all. "You seem tense?" Charlie, the manager of the store, was a middle aged guy with thinning blonde hair and a mustache. He seemed like a fair guy, pretty straight forward, not a dick. Kinda bossy, but well, it came with the job title. I figured I could live with that. Now two weeks in, I found Charlie let me do all sorts of work on every possible car that entered the garage. Sure I'd turned a wrench under the Impala's hood, but always when Dad was around. It was a whole new ball game working on other people's vehicles, others who expected you to know what you were doing. So yeh, I was just a little tense.

"Naw, just thinking that if Mrs. Leogrande returns at noon, I might not have that Chevy done in time to get to her car and what if she needs more than just that AC charge?"

"Already called her. She's not coming to pick it up until five. Plenty of time. You really do worry too much kid. There's a good head on those shoulders. Eventually I can picture you managing this place, but not.." He emphasized with a pointed finger. "until I retire."

So I wasn't being called onto the carpet for injuring innocents with my ineptitude. A short laugh escaped my mouth, half for the big Sammy style word I'd just thought of and half in relief that my boss wasn't disappointed in me. He'd actually given me a compliment.

"I gotta run to the bank and over to the parts store. I need you up front to watch the counter for me. Don't take any appointments for today, but you can fill up the other time slots. You remember how to do it?" Charlie was out the door before I could do more than nod in reply.

I stood still for less than a minute staring at the greasy counter top and praying the phone didn't ring. Hunting was a dirty job, and it's not like I wasn't used to getting grease under my nails, but for as long as I could remember my father had instructed me in the fine art of keeping my weapons clean, packing neatly, organizing materials. I thought about how ridiculously clean Sammy and I kept out apartment, nothing like I imagined two dormmates typically would do, but totally like two young marines might. That was how we'd been trained; that was our way.

I needed something to keep me busy. Under the counter were some paper towels and a bottle of cleaner. The grime came away easily and so far the phones hadn't rang off the hook with customer's demanding things of me that I couldn't answer. Half a roll later and the counter was back to its original white, unlike my hands, which had grime transferred to them. It figures that as soon as I went into the bathroom to wash them off, the door opened. It'd been twenty minutes; so I hoped it was Charlie. But when I left the washroom I saw that a customer had entered and gone over to the free coffee we kept on all day. It was a man, fairly tall, nicely dressed and patient. I can always tell about how much time someone has on their hands by their posture. This guy was relaxed. I liked that. Patient customers tended not to be douchbags, and that made my day a lot more pleasant. I'm sure he heard me, since I was singing Zeppelin to myself, probably not so quietly either.

"Mine's a tale that can't be told….." he sang in response as he dropped the coffee stirrer into the trash. Then he turned towards me.

It was one of those moments when you see someone, and your mind assures you he is a stranger, but some strange part of you emotionally thinks you've known that person your whole life.

The guy wasn't some punk ass kid, but he wasn't old either. His hair was nearly black and as far as I could see there wasn't any grey in it. He was dressed in a tie, but over that he wore a dressy black leather jacket.

"You must be new here." The man finally spoke and I closed my gaping mouth, trying to look a little less like an idiot. "I'm Gregg Simon." He extended his hand towards mine, finally waking me from my stupor.

"Dean Winchester, I started here a couple weeks ago."

"Fresh meat." My lip lifted a little in a snarl and Gregg blushed. "No, I didn't mean nothing that way, just Charlie's got this thing. He expects his mechanics to be a bunch of morons and he's not always subtle in the way he goes about letting them know they don't meet his standard. You're still here; so you must not be a moron."

I mulled over the comment. Of course, just the day before Charlie had called Daryl into his office and right after that Daryl packed up his tools and left.

"What, is he ex-Marine or something?"

"How'd you guess?"

"My dad is. Maybe that's why I never noticed anything out of the ordinary."

"Lucky you. Anyways, Charlie makes certain my SUV has the best care and when I bring in my baby he treats her well and helps me figure it all out."

"Baby?"

"My Chevelle. She's sweet looking like that cherry Impala sitting out there."

My face lit up like a child's on Christmas morning. "That's my girl."

"Lucky you. What kind of engine you got running her?"

"327 V8."

"Sweet!" I'd found a fellow enthusiast, you would have guessed it by the way his blue eyes danced. Talk about cars always gets me rambling, usually to myself, but to see it in another threatened to turn me into something completely goofy.

"Where'd you buy it?"

"Oh, my Dad gave her to me, she's actually the family car."

"No! That's so cool!" For some reason, Gregg's reaction made me smile. He had such an animated face. "Hey, ah, can I take a quick look?" I forgot all about the shop for a minute and followed Gregg outside. It's not often I met someone as excited about a Chevy as myself. "This puts my car to shame." There was an unmistakable glint of joy in his look as he ran his hand over the freshly polished body.

"Here." I hoisted the hood and let him admire my hard work. The Impala was a real road car, unlike most classic cars that spent only the warmer months out of the garage, my car was a working girl; had been since Dad bought her long before I was born. "My dad and me rebuilt the engine four years ago. You can see that the carburetor's new, hoses, lines….I either replace or try to keep them clean."

"Amazing! You take this to car shows?"

"No, we use her. Like I said, she's the family car." There was a lot of pride in my voice and Gregg was genuinely impressed.

"I'm not sure mine is courtesy of the car club guys or my own early mid-life crisis. I joined a classic car club thinking I'll just admire the rides, but apparently, that's not how it works. You go, you show. It's about bragging rights mostly. I got her this spring. It's been a learning experience. Well, I thought I'd just drive this cool looking car, but it was only $ 2,000, which should have been a tip right there that she needed work."

"So how's that going?"

"Slow"

"Yeh, you kinda don't look like the mechanic type."

"And I suppose you do? Have you looked in the mirror lately? You look more like a soap opera star than a grease monkey." He paused and I felt my face flush. "Still, you're right. I've no business under a car. I'm an architect."

"I could take a look at it for you. Why don't you bring her by tomorrow."

"She's not exactly road worthy at the moment." He sucked on his lips in embarrassment, reminding me oddly of Sammy. "I just came by to get an oil change for the SUV."

A strange feeling affected my stomach, it wasn't any different than when I was a kid and Dad broke a promise. But why was I feeling disappointment in not meeting a Chevelle?

"Much as I want to help you out, Charlie will have my ass if I take you in today. We're booked solid." I'd started towards the showroom where we kept the appointment book and Gregg followed. "But there's openings tomorrow." Whereas moments before he was chatty about his car and mine, all of a sudden he'd clammed up. I wasn't sure what I'd done. His face looked suddenly tired and his mood somber. His silence did nothing but fuel my need to fill the space with sound.

"So, when you're not attempting to desecrate a Chevy what are ya up to?"

"Huh? Oh, I fish, and play golf. You?"

"I like fishing, and I hunt."

"I tried that once with my dad, long time ago." He shrugged. "Didn't really work out. It rained, we argued, the animals hid." His smile was back, apparently I hadn't said anything to offend him at all, and once I got him talking he was friendly, not reserved.

"Well, having fun shouldn't be stressful right? You own a boat?"

"No, but my company has a cottage and lake rights down at Truman Lake and I can use that when I want. Works out great not having to pay boat payments and then have a place for it in the winter."

"Yeh, that's right, do you have a garage for the Chevelle?"

"Of course." I guess I'd asked a stupid question. He was a professional man who probably lived in an enormous house with a three stall garage and a teeny-tiny yard. Wasn't that what Yuppies did?

"You might want to check out the car club. Most of the members own cars from the 50's and 60's. They meet every two weeks."

"Sure." I was never in one place long enough to think ahead to something like every two weeks, but with Sam adamant that we were in for the long haul I thought joining a club might not be a bad idea. Gregg was turning out to be a decent guy after all. He waited on the other side of the counter as I went around to the appointment book and the computer. I traced down the time slots and stopped. "Tomorrow is looking pretty open after ten."

Gregg extended his hand towards the appointment book, making me take notice of the silver ring on long fingers that ended in clean nails. I suddenly felt self-conscious of mine, but there was no hiding them. Our fingers were nearly touching as I ran along the columns to the open slot for his name. I escaped humiliation and went to the keyboard to find the necessary page where customers' names and addresses were listed. Charlie had taught me to cross log appointments both in the computer and on paper. Gregg's street was one I'd never heard of, but that didn't stop me from asking.

"Running Deer Lane? One of those fancy housing communities?"

"Guilty." He answered without a drop of remorse. "My company designed them, so it goes without saying that I consider them fit to live in. However, I assure you I did not pick the name for my street. The city did. So sue them."

Somehow Gregg made an uptight situation funny. He might be educated, but he seemed cool. My eyes followed him as he retreated from the store. He'd be back tomorrow with his SUV and info on the car club. Was it too much to hope I could make a friend.

My maudlin thoughts were broken by the sight of a very sexy barely legal girl entering the shop. Dressed like it was still 80 degrees outside, she shivered as she entered the cool showroom. I came around the counter to greet her. Customer service foremost on my mind.

"Hello, what can I help you with today?"

She gave me a once over and tossed her hair over her shoulder. Here eyes traveled across my chest and back to my face. "Dean, my dad told me this is the best place to come for service. He said, if my car got funky I should bring it to Scott's. I think they were like college roomies or something."

I suppressed the urge to chuckle. There was no one named Scott. Charlie was the owner I guessed, maybe he'd been to college with the Barbie dolls dad. I really didn't care.

"Funky, huh? What exactly do you mean?"

"How am I suppose to know, you're the mechanic, isn't that what you're paid to do?"

"Yes, but if you went to the doctor would you just say, I'm sick, or would you describe your symptoms?" I realized I'd slowed my speak like I was talking to a young child. It seemed to have no affect on the girl. She just stared.

"I wanted a new car, but my dad bought this used thing. It's really stressful. Please. Just look at it?" Wow, she had a rude awaking ahead of her. I thought of situations Sam and I had been forced into at a young age and how we had no one to back us up. This girl had no idea. Still, I had a soft spot for her, she was cute and maybe single. So I knew I'd pay for me to be nice.

"We can look at it tomorrow, if you just drop it off. I could give you a ride back to your house." She looked disappointed. "We're pretty heavily booked. I could take a quick look. Do you even have the tiniest hint of what the problem is?"

"Honestly! What do I look like? I'm a college student."

"Well, I just wondered if maybe you had talked with someone who knew what was wrong. You drove it here?"

"Yeh, that's it, right there." I followed her outside to a 1999 Mitsubishi Eclipse. Nice car I suppose, probably a graduation gift from Mommy and Daddy.

"I'll drive it into the bay and take a quick look, but like I said, you'll need to come by tomorrow." She rolled her eyes and checked her watch.

"That's cool I guess. So you want me to leave it here, with my keys?"

"That's the general idea, you know, so we can start it up and test drive it."

"I've got class at two."

"That's no problem, I'll take you wherever you need to go." She seemed a little more relaxed. The car was inside the garage now. I popped the hood and let the engine idle. There appeared to be nothing wrong with the car, I couldn't imagine why she'd come in.

I'd gotten her name and address and was setting up the appointment when Charlie returned. I was relieved to see him even though everything had gone perfectly in his absence. I hoped he wouldn't be angry I'd offered Melissa a ride home. He only offered me a smile and a wink of encouragement as I escorted Melissa to my car.

"This thing's yours?"

"Yeh, Dad gave her to me when I turned eighteen."

"But it's old."

"It's a classic Chevy, it's special. And it's a helluva lot better than a half the crap that's sold nowadays." I was beginning to wonder about Melissa. She was hot, but she didn't offer a lot in the way of personality.

"So why'd you pick DeVry University?"

"My parents both went here."

"What's your major?"

"Hospitality Management."

"They have a major for party planners?"

"What? Don't you know anything? It's about hotels. Ugh!" I had no doubt if I turned my attention from the road, I'd see her eyes rolling like a cartoon characters to match her sugary voice.

"You live in a dorm?" She was so silent and cold I could have sworn there was air conditioning in the Impala. "They have pillow fights?"

She gave me a look of disgust and I shut my mouth. I gotta tell ya I was actually relieved when we got to her dorm and a muscular blonde jock came striding up to the car.

"That's my boyfriend, Pete." Pete looked at me with all the wit of a caveman and I gave him a big toothy grin. "Thanks Dean." Melissa said as she hopped out and into the Neanderthal's arms.

Oh well, you win some and you lose some in this great game of dating.


	3. Chapter 3: At Home and Abroad

_**Acts of Sedition**_

_Previously: _ Dean finds working at Scott's Automotive not so bad. He meets Gregg, a regular customer who also just happens to own a classic Chevy.

_Chapter Three_

**At Home and Abroad**

At five thirty my day was done. I swung by Burger King for dinner and headed home. A man without cable and the Food Network can't always be creative with his cooking.

Sam greeted me dressed in his newest pair of jeans, which meant they had neither blood stains or holes in them, and a sweater I'd never seen before. His hair was still a little damp and curling around his ears and I could smell cologne.

"Hot date tonight? You know you have a curfew on school nights Sammy."

"Bite me!" He snarled as I tossed him a wrapped burger which he frowned at even as he was unwrapping it.

"Geez Dean, burgers again? " It couldn't have been that bad since he shoved half of it into his mouth. "And you know fries are not a vegetable!"

"Then go grocery shopping, Samantha!" I was cranky and not in the mood. He sat at the table and huffed.

"I have a study partner coming over in a few. Do you think you can be nice? It's a girl."

My brows raised. "Sammy's gonna get a little action." He frowned as I poked him in the stomach. "What's she look like, four eyed and pimply?"

"Leave it alone Dean, she's just a classmate."

"And you need to seize the day. Sam, live a little. Get a girlfriend, get a little nookie. Make you less uptight."

"Dean, please. Please, just don't embarrass me." Was my brother begging me to stay quiet? Would I easily obey? I was wondering if this study partner was maybe someone _I_ should take interest in.

He cleared off the table and set out his books. It was nearly six and I wondered where his nerd mate might be. Would my brother be stood up for a date with the books? I hoped not. Sam could use some lessons in love; I was pretty sure it would make him a little less freaky.

Fifteen minutes later and we were still waiting. Sam had opened his Lit book, but sat tapping his pen on the table top. I don't know why I hung around, it's not like I had anywhere to go, and this was Sammy and wanted to be there if the girl let him down. "So how's the poetry reading going?" I asked as I gave him a quick swat in the head. "Figure out why that dude wrote about a lamia?"

"I think he was just trying to make a comparison between nature and science. I found two other poems about the lamia too." I found a photocopied sheet of paper thrust before me. "But I don't think they're all that focused on the myth, just the times."

"And you chose to be in this class?" The poem sat unread on the table. "Sometimes, I don't even know how we are related."

"Well how was your day?" Sam snarled back without any real anger.

"Met this long time customer, Gregg, he told me Charlie can be a real A-hole, and listen to this, dudes an ex-marine."

"Gregg or Charlie…?"

"Charlie. He likes the work I do. Gave me a compliment, and Gregg says he never does that."

"Who the hell is Gregg?"

"He's got a vintage 69 Chevelle, belongs to this car club where people show off their classics and he's swinging by with info on it tomorrow."

"You look a little too happy."

"Come on Sam how often do you find someone who wants to talk about the things you like?"

"Honestly? Like never. Every time we've ever chanced meeting someone Dad would be ready to be on the move again. So I'd be nice to get to know someone who shares your interest. Amy said she liked this stuff, you know Keats, and so I lied, told her I did too. See I do want to get to know her. So just lay off okay."

"All right! Seize the day, stud."

A knock sounded on the door. The moment of truth had arrived. Sam opened the door and led an extremely pretty girl inside. It took everything I had in me to not give Sam a high five. Since they wanted to use the table I figured I could sit and watch TV, but seeing the look on Sam's face I knew he'd rather be left alone. Damn, small apartments. I'd just have to go out, and I just wasn't in the mood.

*****

Two hours later and I found myself at a seedy bar called Hillside in an equally questionable neighborhood. It was just a place to pass that time, but old habits are hard to break, and when you get a mark dumb enough to say he'll wager money on a game of pool then it's just a matter of time before you find yourself hustling a game. I was good at it, it was easy, and I was young enough to affect an innocence that made the hustle work.

I'd taken in two hundred dollars from the buffoon and he and his empty wallet left. My last beer was nearly empty and it was time to call it a night when trouble walked through the door.

The bar was called Hillside for a reason. Half of it sat at basement level; the other half at street level. The main entrance to the bar left the patron at the top of a small set of stairs. And that's where she stood. All five feet of her on a good day. She was pretty, but definitely too old for me, so I looked back to the beer I was drinking and wished there was someone to converse with.

Within moments my wishes came true as the newcomer sat on the stool by me.

"Buy me a drink." It wasn't spoken as a question. "You kinda owe me."

"Lady, I don't know you." I'd a thought she was a demon the way she tilted her head, the way her nose twitched, naw, maybe more a witch. "Okay, okay, bartender, two more drafts."

"Cheap bastard aren't ya? You can do better than that, I know you can."

"You've been married too long if that's your idea of a pick-up line." I made to slide from my stool, but her left hand stopped me. Beer spilled on my leg. "Do you mind? Leave me alone."

"I'd love to, believe me your much too pretty to be my type, but see, you owe me." There it was. In her left hand a paper napkin she held it way too close to my crotch, but that was the least of my worries. In her right hand, was a small handgun. She snuggled closer to me, arms sliding around my back, hands reaching for my ass. I was damn happy my gun was not in my waist band, it was bad enough I could feel the cold barrel of her gun sliding up my back.

I knew what she was groping for, a wallet, but I'd left mine at home and just shoved everything in my pockets. She didn't look like a college graduate, but she was smart enough to know accosting me here upped her chances of getting what she wanted.

"What if I told you I spent the money?"

"You'd be a liar, you just stole it from Frank only an hour ago."

"And your point? I don't have it anymore. But I could pay you back another way." I wanted her outside. Once there, I'd disarm her quickly, then get the hell out of this section of the city.

"You hustled my husband earlier. And his money, is my money." She slid the stool closer. "Lousy cheater, spends more time here than at home. But you wouldn't know about that kind of thing, nice boy like you. Let me give you advice, stay single.

" I see, I'm guessing you're not a cop?"

"Exactly, and I'm guessing you don't want me to call them."

"Let's settle this peacefully."

"That's better, pretty boy. Get up, and walk towards the back door, act like you wanna be with me." She whispered all this in my ear quite intimately. I followed her directions, though reluctantly. But she was a wild card, there was no way of knowing how trigger happy she might be, and I wasn't willing to risk paralysis or death to find out.

We stopped in a dim hallway by the bathrooms and she pressed me against the wall, never once letting up with the gun to my back. Before I knew it she slid her hand down the front of my pants.

"The money's not there." I growled. "Just back off for a second and I'll get it." The gun slid around to rest against my stomach, and I didn't want to take a bullet there either. She wasn't giving me many options, but to hand over the damn money. I'd earned it, and I didn't care if she thought it was rightfully hers, it was her husband's fault for being scammed.

She was growing impatient. "Stop fucking with me! Where is it?" That's when she made the mistake of waving the gun away from my body. In seconds, my hand reached for her wrist and had it in an iron grasp.

Just my luck she's call out and make me look like the bad guy. But that was not the case at all. Her knee came up to my groin and I bent over, but I didn't loosen my grasp on her wrist. As I collapsed I leaned forward and took her with me, pinning her to the other wall. Finally the gun clattered to the floor. We both scrambled for it, but she got to it first. Next thing I knew i was crumpled on the floor, her hands were inside my jacket. She pulled out the small wad of twenties and smiled.

"See that was easy, college boy. Next time, you wanna steal, do it in your part of town. Stay the fuck away from this bar. You're not welcome here." She made her way over me, giving me one last bruise by kicking me in the head. I could have grabbed her leg and pulled her down, but what was the point. She was right, this was her part of town and she likely knew every guy in the joint. They'd believe her over me in a heart beat.

Some patron chose this moment to make his way to the bathroom. Seeing me on the floor caused him little alarm. "You okay, buddy?" He asked matter of factly.

"Yep." I hauled myself up. "Just slipped on some spilt beer." I moved past him and out the door as quickly as possible. There were no signs of anyone around as I made my way to the car. That lady was right about one thing. This wasn't my part of town and there was no way in Hell I was going back.


	4. Chapter 4: Bumps and Bruises

Chapter Four

_**Bumps and Bruises**_

It wasn't my place to be out front, but Charlie was running some inventory in the parts room and he'd called me to the counter. Seems I was designated counter boy now. And why complain, keeping the customer satisfied, that was just a natural extension of my already shiny personality. Charlie's timing for sending me out for the meet and greet couldn't have been better. A silver Toyota Four Runner pulled up along side the building; it's driver, a dark haired man with bright blue eyes, someone I'd already met the day before, stepped out.

Gregg waited patiently while I finished up with the customer before me. Then he stepped up to the desk. "You're up front again? Man, Charlie's really letting you out of your cage here."

"Probably on account of my stunning good looks."

"Point well made." There was that grin, the same one he'd given me yesterday when he'd said I looked like a Soap Opera star. And that nameless bitch last night had called me a pretty boy. I knew I was good looking, but was that how people saw me, pretty? Dean, the pretty boy hunter didn't have the kind of intimidating quality to it that it needed to. I stopped worrying at the sound of Gregg's voice.

"What happened to your cheek?" There was more concern on his face than I'd seen on Sammy's. But as hunters we'd seen all kinds of bumps and bruises. I couldn't hold it against Sam for seeming indifferent. If it didn't need stitches, if I was coherent, then it was just a scratch in our book.

"I bumped into the lift." I figured it was as good an excuse as any, and he seemed to fall for it.

"So that's why Charlie keeps you out here, to keep you away form all that dangerous equipment. Better not let a tire fall on your head."

"Yeh, well you're only here for an oil change, so I think I'm safe."

The oil change took all of ten minutes. Some part of me didn't want Gregg to leave the store. I poked around at the computer, finishing up a job for a lady who'd come in right before Gregg. After she left there was a rare tiny lull in the action and a chance to speak. "So how's the Chevelle?"

"It's skipping. I'm gonna look at it this afternoon, but I really don't know what I'm doing. Charlie recommended a Chevy dealership that does engine work."

"My dad and me rebuilt my engine. If you want, I could take a look too."

Gregg flashed his perfect teeth. "I'd like that."

Trying to hold back the excitement I was feeling was a little like praying your parachute would open after frantically tugging on the cord. There are words for the look that was on my face, words like idiotic, crazed, stupefied, all came to mind. The problem was simple, I liked cars, Sam didn't. So any time I brought up my passion he shot me down. I might love my brother to pieces, but still, it's lonely not having anyone to talk to. Sam likes to be heard, he hasn't totally developed those listening skills yet.

A bucket of cold water was dumped on my hopes when several new customers walked in through both doors and the phone rang simultaneously.

"See ya later." Gregg waved as he walked away from the maddening crowd, leaving me up to my elbows in needy people and ringing lines.

I grabbed the phone, punched a button and practically shouted, "Scott's Automotive, please hold!" I was working with an older gentleman getting his info down when another line rang. For some reason, this one I didn't put on hold right a way.

It was the school, Sam had been hurt. There was more, but I wasn't listening. I didn't even notice that Charlie was standing next to me at the counter.

Thank God, because I was ready to loose it. Charlie's voice was calm. "Is he still at school?"

"Yeh." I covered the mouthpiece to the phone. "He's in the nurse's office."

"And they're not calling an ambulance?"

"Yeh. Guess so."

"Then I'm sure he's fine. Breathe. Stay calm, Dean or you'll get in a wreck."

I wasn't even aware of the customers watching me make a scene, and it didn't really matter. I tore out of Scott's and headed to the school, trying to remind myself that if no ambulance was involved, then things were probably totally fine.

At the school, I thought I'd burst at the delay, as the door guard did everything but just about frisk me before letting me through with a visitor's pass and directions to the nurse's office.

Sam was sitting on one of those little nurse's cots in the back corner, ice pack held to his face. I brushed past all the other students waiting their turn and went straight for him. "Sam, what happened?" I didn't let him answer as I knelt before him and pulled his hands away to see what damage had been done. In our world, it was nothing, a bruised cheek close enough to his eye so that it might cause a black eye later. We'd both had those before. I swallowed and huffed with relief.

"Hope the other guy looks worse." Sam frowned and then I heard a decidedly feminine voice from behind me.

"Mr. Winchester."

"That's me." I turned in response to the voice expecting to see some plump matron in polyester, instead I saw a younger woman, dark hair, dark eyes, full lips. And a tag pinned to her lab coat that read Calabrese. She was hot, nurse Calabrese, with that dark shiny hair and the most expressive eyes, I suddenly realized she wasn't reciprocating my bright shiny smile. I extended my hand. "Call me Dean, my dad's Mr. Winchester. What's my little brother been up to?"

She stuck one long syringe in my balloon, and all hopes of a number faded as fast as I noticed the large rock on her left hand. I'd have had more luck getting friendly chatter from an older woman. "Well, that's something you'll need to discuss with Principal Walker. Sam was punched, as you can see, but he appears fine. I'd like him to go home with you for today, and if you'd like he should see your doctor."

"For that! He's had worse." Maybe not the best thing to say to those with the power to call CPS, but Sam was eighteen now, so I highly doubted any of that mattered. "I'm just saying, Sam's taken an elbow or two to the face during soccer."

"The principal's office is right next door, he's expecting you."

Out in the hall I was able to grill Sam properly. "Don't you know enough not to draw attention to us?"

"I'm trying, guy kinda surprised me."

"But why? You refuse to do some jock's homework for him or something?"

"No." The tone was pure prissiness. "I flirted with his girlfriend. Guess Malcolm is the jealous type."

"Sammy! Yeh, now that makes it worth something. So's he some big man on campus douchbag, tell me all about it." But there wasn't time. We were already standing at the entrance to the office and had caught the attention of the secretary. The juicy details would just have to wait.

"Malcolm is sophomore." Sam muttered as we stepped up to the counter. I gave a quick nod to the secretary before whispering to Sam from the corner of my mouth.

"You got beat up by a sophomore?"

"He's a wrestler." Sam shrugged as he was turning several shades of red.

The principal, shockingly young and handsome, overheard us talking. He extended his hand to me as if I was much older, giving me the same level of respect I'd imagine he'd give to my father. "Why don't we go into my office where we can discuss this further?"

The last time I was in a principal's office was the day I quit school for good. It was fall, three years ago and I was already nineteen. With too few credits to make it out before twenty-one the situation was hopeless. I just didn't care. The only reason I hung around was to stay close to Sam, but it was becoming glaringly obvious I couldn't stick around forever. The gap in our ages was just too great. So there I was, called to the office to discuss my little falling asleep in class problem. Little was a nice was to put it. The only days I didn't fall asleep were the days I cut, and those happened at least twice a week. The session with that principal had been brief, as he geered up for some motivational speech I stopped him. After assuring him there was no reason to expend his energy on me, I politely thanked him for his time and walked out.

Later, Dad was pissed, but understood. Sam cried and promptly began researching GED programs the next day. Now we sat with a man whose dark hair and youthful looks reminded me of Gregg. This principal appeared friendly, almost worried that we would not be satisfied customers, and not condescending like 99% of the principals I'd ever met. He had some paper work on his desk which he looked over briefly before addressing us.

"Sam didn't fight back. He's not in trouble. We wanted to assure you that Malcolm would receive the proper discipline under our new discipline code.

Sam won't have to worry about being bullied again. Malcolm will be suspended out of school for a month."

"Really? That seems a bit harsh for a little fight. Sam's no weakling." All pretence of the principal being young and understanding was gone with my prattling. Thankfully Sam interrupted before I could stick my foot in my mouth.

"Dean, Eighteen? Not a minor anymore. I'm not fighting anyone."

"What are you, gonna be a lawyer?"

"Maybe." Sam's reply surprised me. The principal was standing, eager to move us along.

"That's a smart attitude Sam, you got a good head on your shoulders, we need more students like you."

"Thanks." Principal Walker's eyes took in my bruised cheek.

"Looks like you two have matching bruises."

"Ran into the lift at work." God, I hoped he believed that. At least he took my hand and gave it a firm shake. He patted Sam on the shoulder and saw us out to the main reception area.

Back in the car I was finally able to get the whole story from Sam.

"Malcolm's been dating Amy. He's….what ya might call possessive. She stopped by my locker this morning and we were just chatting. Then his friends saw us there and got a rumor started that we were making out."

"We're you? It'd make the bruise way more worth it."

"No, just talking." So between classes Malcolm started talking shit and popped me one."

"And you just stood like Jesus and turned the other cheek? What the hell Sam, now he's thinkin' you have no balls."

"Now he's suspended and I can date his girlfriend." Sam's voice was filled with smug satisfaction. "I'm serious, I'm calling her tonight."

"Master manipulator Sammy! Dude, you seem to be learning. Milk the injury out, let her comfort you, chicks love that kind of thing. It's like built into their nature. Trust me, I think she was digging you yesterday. Am I right?"

"I think so, she took my hands when she was leaving, she said she wanted to get together again."

"Definitely a good sign."

"So, you never told me about how you got that bruise. I don't believe for a minute it happened at work."

"I don't want to tell you, it's not a big deal and it won't happen again. "

"Yeh, until the next time." My little brother was right; he knew me all too well.

"I went out last night. Some guys were hassling this woman. I didn't like it, so I stepped in."

"She okay?" Sam's voice was soft like a whisper, concerned.

"She's fine. I walked her to her car…after."

"After what?"

"Well, I had to get her away from them and they weren't the reasoning type; so I had to resort to a little of that Marine training Dad taught us. Look, no big deal. She's safe, I'm fine. It felt right to be the Good Samaritan. Been awhile since I saved anyone."

"It's my fault. You were out trying to leave Amy and me alone."

"Sammy, it all worked out. Now you just have to go after that chick. It's time Sam to step up and be a man."

My brother didn't look all that convinced as he exited the car and made his way to our front door.


	5. Chapter 5: Car Shows

Chapter Five

**Car Shows**

Sam and I got home around one. After assuring me his injury wouldn't cause him to drop into a coma, I left Sam and headed back to work. Driving from our crappy neighborhood to the University district my thoughts began to wander. I'd been ages since I'd gotten any and I felt overdue. Images of Nurse Calabrese overlapped with images of Principal Walker. Weird. But another face kept coming to me, Gregg's.

He'd given me the info on the car club. It met next Wednesday. I had his number, I could call him and we might go together. Why did I care. This was a club for talking about cars, not meeting chicks, not that my body was up for it. After last night's beating I needed a little rest.

Work was the usual, and since I'd been gone for an hour I was behind and had to work faster. My mind was deep on my work when I heard a familiar voice behind me.

"I demand a refund!" I turned to see Gregg. He must have already gone home from work, he was dressed in a black sweater and faded jeans. "My SUV has a horrible rattle that wasn't there this morning." He was a lousy actor, a big sloppy grin lit up his face even as he tried to sound angry.

"Hey! What ya doin' back here? You know, no customers beyond the yellow line and all that insurance crap."

"Yeh, well Charlie and I go way back."

"Yeh, and pigs fly and unicorns shoot rainbows out their butts."

"And all this time I thought the Leprechaun's were responsible?"

"No, I'm pretty sure they're just devious, sadistic killers, no rainbows."

"And no pot of gold?" He mock pouted.

"Not unless you count their golden daggers." I wasn't lying, but the story was so far-fetched he'd consider it a joke. Their daggers aren't funny. They're very deadly held in their tiny little hands when they come running for you mercilessly. Lucky for me, my one encounter with the Irish legend ended well. Dad popped it right between the eyes with a bullet, silver just to be safe, you never know with creatures if you are dealing with the immortal of not; have to be careful.

Gregg's head bobbed shyly. "Well, found out there's a Classic Car Drive over in Liberty, and I wondered if maybe you'd like to take your girl over there?"

"Isn't the car club next week?"

"It is, this is more just a casual show off type of thing, but your Impala, well, shouldn't just be sitting in an apartment complex parking lot tonight. She should go out dancing, show herself off."

"I'm done in ten minutes. When is it?"

"Starts at six, they've got lights, this time of year."

"And I suppose you want me to pick you up?"

"That was the general idea."

"On Running Deer Lane? I think you'll need to give me better directions than that."

"You could follow me over to my place and that would take care of the problem. We can stop for something to eat on the way." Why did this seem like Gregg had planned it out?

First I made a quick stop at home to change from my garage clothes into something human. I'd pulled on my usual jeans and looked for a shirt that might not make me stand out as the poor hunter I was. Sam's new sweater hung neatly in the closet; it was clean; so I put it on. For few minutes I studied myself in the mirror.

Plenty of girls had shown me in more ways than one that they admired my looks and my body, but how many had every said I was smart, or funny. How many had thought I'd just be someone interesting to hang around with? I fussed some more in the mirror before reviewing my pitiful collection of shirts. Sam wasn't home yet so I grabbed a change of clothes and headed out in geek boy's sweater. If I changed before coming home he'd never be the wiser.

Gregg's house was the suburban nightmare I'd imagined it to be, complete with two matching trees out front and a pressed concrete driveway. The garage door was up so I wandered in. There, along side his SUV, rested his prized Chevelle. She was a thing of beauty, all chrome and custom paint, and of all the colors available-purple."

"Dude, purple?"

"Royal Plum. Show respect, it was the original color."

"She looks perfect."

"Had the body work done first, but inside the car still has issues. I probably should just replace the whole engine. Start fresh."

"That's always an option, but sometimes, you just need to replace part of it."

He lifted my wrist to check my watch for the time. When he saw my frown he lifted his own arm. "No watch. It's probably best we get going."

The car show was set up in the parking lot of a lumber store. Two rows of classic and antique vehicles faced each other. We parked away from the display, as we were not members.

"This so beats how I spent last night." Gregg was making a beeline for an ancient Buick LeSabre that looked like it had been trucked in on a flat bed. He was several feet ahead of me and I'd hoped my little admission flew over his head, but I was wrong.

"Do I wanna know."

"No, but let's just say hell hath no fury like a woman wanting her money back." Gregg looked at me like I'd been speaking Gujrati or something. "I was at a bar I didn't belong in and I got into a little snit with this angry wife. Do I have to say more?"

"I'm not gonna make you, but you did bring it up, so….?"

"I kinda had to let her smack me."

"So that's where this bruise is really from?" He pointed at my cheek. "She's got a mighty right hook. Least she didn't hit your nose."

"This is from the barrel of a gun."

"You could've been shot." I kept on walking, but he gripped my arm tightly. "Stop! Look at me. Are you really okay with this? Jesus." He rubbed his face. "How can you not be freaked out?"

"Truth? It's not the first time I've had a gun held on me. And yeh, it's scary, but hey, I'm still here. So let's me and you do what ever it is we're suppose to do at one of these things."

Gregg was dumbstruck at my admission. It was foolish to even bring it up and now I was inviting drama I didn't want to be a part of.

"Did you call the cops? Something like this you can't let that go."

"I dealt with it, it's okay."

"No, it's not. You were mugged!" His voice raised in pitch. A couple of guys turned to look at us.

"Not exactly. Would you please just drop it." I lowered my voice to a mumble. "People are looking at us."

"Sorry. We'll talk about it later." Geez, he was insistent.

I had no concept of how these auto displays went. From what Gregg had told me they were fairly casual. If you were in the club your car was displayed with the hood up. Those just visiting like me could park their cars on the outer perimeter. Men of all ages and a few women milled about. There were about a dozen cars in all. My eyes fell to a sweet looking Corvette. We wandered over towards the owner who reminded me of my Dad's hunter friend Bobby Singer. He wore the same old trucker's cap and faded flannel shirt. It was pretty obvious he put more care into the car than his personal appearance.

Thinking about Bobby, made me wonder about Dad. He'd been distant lately; even when he called his messages were short and vague. Sam and me didn't even know what state he was in. Maybe a long time ago, when Mom was alive, Dad went to a show like this. Maybe he had time to just enjoy life and the company of friends. But not now, for twenty years it'd been nothing but the hunt. No wonder why Sam was sick of it all and wanted a normal year. I was tired too.

The Bobby look-a-like was talking about the custom engine he'd installed. Gregg nodded appreciatively, but I questioned how much he understood of car talk.

"May I?" He politely gestured towards the carburetor and when given the okay by the owner touched it. "This is just like the carburetor on my Chevelle, isn't it Dean?"

"Well, it's four-barrel, but the see the shape of this air intake, not quite the same. That's cuz Corvette's were designed to boost the gas/air mixture almost like a turbo. But this was before turbo engines were designed, so it's kinda of a proto type for the turbo."

"You know a lot about cars kid. What you drivin'?"

"67 Impala." I pointed a few rows over. "She's over there."

Just then another man strolled over. He looked a lot like the Bobby look-a-like except he wasn't wearing a hat. "You like our car?" He leaned his body on the door frame.

"It's sweet. We're members of the KC Club." I added.

"Thanks."

Gregg and I were walking away from the two. "That's one way to save money, go in halves on a car."

"I think they're partners."

"Yeh, that's what I'm sayin'."

"No, I mean, they're a couple."

"What?" I looked back to the men now who were chatting with some other guys who'd come to admire the car. "How can you tell?"

"Just can." And he left it at that.

About an hour later and we were headed back to his little postage stamp in suburbia. I had to admit for once I'd had a good time with no worries and no pressure. For over an hour Sam's safety wasn't on my mind. AC/DC was playing from my tape deck and we rode together without a care in the world.

Then my phone rang. It was Sam and he was frantic.

"Dad's in town! He's been trying to get a hold of you all night. Why aren't you answering your phone?"

"I was kinda busy." I heard Sam mumble then another voice came over the line. It was older, deeper, more weary.

"Where are you?" My father demanded.

"I'm on my way home now. I was over in Liberty."

"Good, we're at the bus station. Can you get here in ten?"

I looked to my passenger seat. Gregg was trying not to pry, but he was aware of the urgency of the conversation.

"Is Sam okay?" I asked worriedly. The answer was probably yes, he was the one who called in the first place. "Is he hurt?"

Dad was typically evasive. "Dean, I need you here ASAP…..I can't say more right now."

"I'll need twenty, be there as fast as I can." I pressed the accelerator further down and the 327 responded.

Gregg looked to me with confusion. "Sorry, family emergency." I muttered. It was crap not giving him any info, but it was also better that way.

I got Gregg home in no time and made it back to the bus station to meet up with my family. Sam was out by Dad's truck pacing and Dad was on his phone.

"We needed you here and you weren't anywhere to be found. Why'd you have your phone off?"

"I was busy."

"What's so important you have to jeopardize your brother's safety?"

"Sam was attacked?"

"No, but I need you boys. I'm headed down to Warrensburg. Rash of unexpected deaths, mysterious noises, dead cattle."

"Demons?"

"It could be. I can't do this alone. There's no one I trust more."

I was caught between a rock and a hard place and by the pained look on Sam's face, so was he. "I've got work tomorrow, Sam's got school. We can't go."

My eyes closed, preparing for the worse.

"Is this how it's gonna be. I have to rely on other hunters so you two can have a little fun? Don't you think there are bigger things to worry about then pep-rallies and car shows.?" Sam must have spilled on my whereabouts. "If this is a demon then I can put it down myself, unless it's the thing that killed your mother. That case, I'd think you'd want in."

Sam was shaking his head, but I couldn't see much of his expression through his bangs. I was waiting for the explosion, but he was oddly silent.

"We don't have time to debate this. Sam, get in the truck. If your brother won't help me at least you can."

Sadly, I gave Dad the answer he wanted to hear. "No, I'm in, but Sam's riding with me."

"If that's what you want." Dad's voice was cold. I had a feeling this hunt was more about asserting who was in power than trying to hunt a demon.

"Got a call there were cattle deaths. I'm a researcher with Kansas State University. Hope you don't mind I brought along my TA's. What do you think it is?"

"I'm not sure. The whole herd succumbed to some ailment. Killed them nearly instantly. I'm thinking they were poisoned somehow, but I won't know for sure until the toxicology report returns. You're welcome to join our autopsy."

The room wasn't any different that a morgue for humans. Concrete floor with drains, lots of stainless steel. Where they found a table sturdy enough to hold a dead cow amazed me. To think someone out there engineered such a thing. I had to keep my thoughts rattling to avoid the bloated bovine before me. I tried not to look at Sam. He'd lost all color and was now moving more towards a shade of green unnatural in human beings.

If either of us threw up we might blow our cover, which was sketchy at best, and then Dad would have our heads.

The Vet was talking casually as he lowered his blade to the cow's hide. Just as the skin split open revealing the bloody muscle and tissue below I had to go and say something stupid. At the time, I just thought I was relieving stress, but in hindsight, my mouth should have stayed shut.

"Emmm, can we have a steak to go?" Sam's eyes bulged. He made a sound, half a gasp and half a groan before I witnessed him projectile vomit onto the specimen on the table.

"Oh God!" He cried out, his hand flying to his mouth. Dad was wide eyed. I grabbed Sam around the shoulders and led him from the room before Dad could talk. I could overhear the Vet telling Dad that he shouldn't worry, happened all the time. Separated the men from the boys, the true Vets from the wanna bes. Then I heard the sound of water spraying. Guess that made sense, clean up the specimen and keep at the research.

Outside the exam room we found a lounge. Sam sat with his head in his hands. "I can't believe I did that. I'm so embarrassed."

"At least you know what you don't want to major in at college." Sam's brow wrinkled at the words I'd spoken. I'd never affirmed his desire for college aloud. Was he pleased, relieved….I don't know.

Dad came out of the exam room an hour later followed by the Vet. "It's looking like an obvious case of poisoning. The blood work will determine the source of the contamination. Not our job."

No surprise there. Dad was using this "case" to get us together. Sam would have looked pissed if he wasn't still trying to hold onto the contents of his stomach. Me, I was tired and wanted to go home. I don't like being used, even by my dad.

We headed out together. A half hour later my phone rang, Dad was headed west, he hoped to see us later. I pressed the accelerator down and headed towards home.


	6. Chapter 6 Car Dates

Chapter Six

_Car Dates_

I spotted the Chevelle as I rounded the unnatural curve leading from BlueJay Trail to Running Deer Lane. From a distance she was a beauty, shiny chrome with a waxed and buffed body, but like her owner, I wondered what I'd find on the inside. She sat in the sun with her hood up when I entered the driveway. Our cars were well suited for each other, and looked hot sitting out front.

Gregg strode up to my door before I'd even opened it. He leaned towards my open window, his actions a bit too eager, but I couldn't stop myself from smiling in return.

"Well, how was the hunting trip?"

"My dad never misses." He looked offended by my hard stare, and I took no pleasure in being so cold towards him, but there was nothing more I could say without giving away the nature of my real job. Gregg was a civilian and he would never know the truth about me.

He didn't pry, which was shocking and refreshing. There are some people who implicitly understand the need to keep secrets.

"Well, here she is. Baby, meet Dean. He's promised to be gentle." Gregg patted the roof of the Chevelle affectionately. "I've been at it for an hour."

"Shows, you rally get into your work." There was a long smear of dirt across the front of his tee shirt. My imagination got the best of me and I wished for a just a moment Gregg would feel the urge to some laundry so I could get a peak at the abs hidden by his clothes. But instead Gregg wasted no time returning his attention to under the hood, oblivious to his stained shirt.

He grunted as he worked the wrench. Gregg wasn't a big man, he must have been an inch or two shorter than myself, and there wasn't an ounce of fat on him. But it was his arms I noticed as he worked. The muscles of his forearm and bicep working in rhythm with the wrench. "Can you help me with this?" His hands were holding a distributor cap like a fragile piece of china. "Stop staring. I could use a hand here." I laughed loudly, he could use a few lessons in auto shop too, but I give credit where credit's due. He tried.

We'd managed together to get the new distributor cap back in place and I checked over the wires and plug connections making sure it was all Kosher. Gregg got behind the wheel and started her up. I felt like a doctor listening to a heart beat, and hearing an arrhythmia. I knew exactly what that was in a human; I'd had one. Once, when I was fourteen I'd gotten electrocuted. Not so badly I thought, until I collapsed quite dramatically on the floor right in the middle of Dairy Queen. Dad had no choice but to take me to the hospital where, after several hours of testing, the doctors told us I had an irregular heartbeat. A few lovely months of heart medicines later and I got lucky, it was gone. The car however, wasn't going to be cured so easily.

"You can turn her off. She sure is skipping. I'd say maybe six cylinders are working at any given time." My face was grave. I knew how he loved this car. It was damn hot for October and I swept my hand across my face to keep the sweat from my eyes. That's when I noticed Gregg was just kinda looking at me.

"You have a little dirt on your face." His voice was quiet, tender like a parent to a child. I felt my lips parted slightly, but I didn't respond. As our eyes met I let myself be lost in his look that would never be mistaken for paternal.

Gregg touched my cheek with his thumb, rubbing hard enough to remove the oily spot. His fingers brushed at the hair above my ear, making a gentle soothing circle. I closed my eyes and let it happen. How long had it been since someone had given me affection. I could count on one hand the times Dad had hugged me, and as big brother it had always fallen to me to be the comforter for Sam.

His hand retracted, but I remained still. I don't know what I was waiting for, what I thought might happen. In the last two years I 'd been on several dates, but I could count on one hand the times I had gotten lucky. I was always busy bragging to Sam about my conquests, but truth is, what I really wanted was affection, not just a one night stand. I didn't think it was normal for Gregg to touch me the way he did, but I liked it. I liked him. He was once of the first friends I'd had in a long time, and he was into the things that made me happy.

I needed to snap out of this fantasy. Nothing good was going to come of it. When my eyes opened I saw that Gregg was back peering under the hood of the car. Before I went over to join his admiration for the two barrel carburetor I noticed how well his ass looked in his jeans. I bit my lip and coughed. Gregg looked up, half grin on his face.

"You're staring again."

"No, just have a lot on my mind right now."

"Wanna beer?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

"You are old enough, right?"

"You proofin' me?"

"Well, I'm guessin' I got ten years on you."

"I'm twenty-two."

"Yep, I was right."

"What kind of beer does an old man in his thirties drink?"

"Only the good stuff. I work hard, I deserve only the best." Again with the look that carried with it hidden desire, but I didn't care and I followed him into the house.

It was much cooler inside and then of course I realized he must have central air. With the summer like weather we were having it must have kicked on. The first room off the garage was a little laundry, but Gregg walked right by the washer without so much as touching his shirt. I guess my fantasy would have to wait. Past the laundry was the kitchen and a hallway that led to a formal dining room. It all seemed oversized and sterile. A modern nightmare I'd never be comfortable in.

"Bathroom's on the left." Gregg pointed me in the right direction. Once inside I did my best to wash my face and make myself presentable. I was thinking I smelled passable given the heat outside when I heard Gregg knock.

"Meet you in the kitchen when you're done."

I stole one last look at myself in the mirror. I didn't look different, but a little piece of me felt something had changed since I met Gregg, and it was with a small thrill and a feeling of wonderment that I opened the door and made my way to the kitchen.

Gregg had changed into a new shirt and jeans and was walking around barefoot. He turned from the stainless steel monstrosity that looked more like a store cooler than a fridge and handed me a Heineken.

"Amsterdam, now there's a place I'd like to visit."

Gregg grinned. "Now why is that?"

"Well you know, the coffee shops that don't sell coffee." God this guy was some sort of tight ass who probably never did a single illegal thing his whole life and now I'd just opened his mouth wide and stuck my foot in.

"Amsterdam is a free spirited kind of place. Sex, drugs and rock n roll…well something like that at least. There's just about every vice if you want it." I paused when Gregg was still quiet. "I mean if that's your thing."

Gregg left the room briefly and returned with a photo album in his hand. "Amsterdam, 1993." He opened the photo album and handed it to me. There was a picture of a younger Gregg standing with another guy in front of a tattoo parlor.

"You get a tat?"

"Yeh, but it's not really in a place I can show you….easily." His lashes lowered nearly touching his cheek and he lifted the left side of his mouth in that half grin I was beginning to expect.

"I don't have any tattoos." I flipped to the next page of the album and what I found didn't really register at first. Gregg and his friend were standing by a rather graphic sculpture which fronted a store advertising sex toys. Gregg let me continue with the photos.

"Who's the friend?"

"His name's Paul, we don't really keep in touch anymore." Gregg spoke of him a little wistfully.

"I should call Sam, he'll be out of school about now and I usually pick him up. I don't want him to worry."

"You're lucky to have a brother."

"What about you?"

"I grew up in St. Louis, my parents and my sister still live there. My brother's in Michigan."

"Well, distance is a pain in the ass for keeping in touch."

"It's more than that. My brother won't speak to me."

"Oh, some big fight?"

"My brother doesn't like my lifestyle"

"How could he not…nice house, good job- "

"He doesn't like my choices" I shut up, I sensed Gregg was going somewhere with this conversation.

"He'd like it is I were more conventional." Gregg sighed and went to the fridge for a second beer; I found myself looking at his butt again when my phone rang.

It was Sam. I glanced at my watch before answering, yep, and sure enough the kid was impatient.

"My brother," I gestured at my cell. "Thinks I forgot to pick him up." I shrugged at Gregg as if the revelation of just minutes before had never happened. "Well, kinda lost track of time."

When I was done talking, Gregg was still sitting across from me. He didn't acknowledge that I'd understood the hidden message he was trying to get across, he didn't ask me if I needed an explanation. He just sat there all casual like nothing was wrong.

And for the first time ever I wondered if he had the right idea. Here, in his little world I could be myself and no one needed to know. It just would have been nice if I knew exactly what "myself constituted." So he tested me to see if I'd freak.

"I'm barbequing tonight since it's still like summer outside, why don't you two come over for dinner?"

The biggest alarm in the world went off in my head. Was this like a date? Would Sam see something different in Gregg? In me? As long as Dad never knew everything would be all right, and Sam would keep the secret, that's what brothers did. If they didn't disown you. But Sammy, well he was already different in his own freaky way, he'd be okay. He'd have to be. I pushed any idea that Sam wouldn't understand me out of my mind and answer the question.

"Yeh, that'd be nice. I'd like you to meet Sam, he's a great kid, even if I do pick on him all the time." I drained the last of my beer and carried it to the sink like I'd watched Gregg do with his. The chrome of the sink was as polished as the Chevelle's. "I'm sorry we couldn't do more for the Chevelle."

"S'okay. There'll be another day for that. At least we tried with the wire set. Come over around six. You guys like steak right?"

"Oh yeh." Gregg rested his hand on my back as I was leaving, and something in me stirred. It was only as I pulled out of the driveway and looked back at Gregg, who was pulling the Chevelle back into the garage that I allowed myself to even think the words for what I'd been feeling. "Crush." I said aloud. "I have a crush-on a man."


	7. Chapter 7: Chick Flick Moments

A/N Warning: Dean and Gregg are in a developing relationship. This is totally PG (with a little swearing). I won't write anything past PG-13 (like the show itself) so if this seems a little lame, please forgive me.

***

Last Chapter: "Oh yeh." Gregg rested his hand on my back as I was leaving, and something in me stirred. It was only as I pulled out of the driveway and looked back at Gregg, who was pulling the Chevelle back into the garage that I allowed myself to even think the words for what I'd been feeling. "Crush." I said aloud. "I have a crush-on a man."

***

Chapter Seven

**Chick-Flick Moments**

Sam was waiting at the curb with two other students when I pulled up outside his high school. I was sure he noticed me, a 327 engine isn't made to whisper, but he was busy chatting away with two average looking guys, and never looked up. Sam was lucky. He always seemed to make friends wherever he went, no matter how long we stayed. He finally looked at me and nodded, pulling away from the others to come to the passenger side of the car.

"You're late." He grumbled.

"You could take the bus." I left it at that. Ungrateful brat. "I do have a life you know."

"You said you'd be done with work at two."

"Yeh, your point?" Sam wasn't typically whiny, and at closer inspection he did seem to have something on his mind. "I was at Gregg's."

"Ohhh, Dean made a friend, didn't you?" A dimple became visible, but still, the set of Sam's shoulders, something was bugging him.

"And where's your friend? Amy or was it Amanda?"

"You're the one who dated an Amanda, her name is Amy."

"Get to first base yet?"

"You're kidding me? Like I'm giving you any of the details." He turned angrily to the window; I had a hunch why.

After several minutes of silence, Sam continued, still not facing me. "She doesn't think as highly of me as you seem to." There was a dramatic pause, as if he were waiting for my smart ass reply. "I don't get it...I'm not ugly, am I? I mean sometimes…I know you're the one with all the girlfriends, but well, how do you do it?

"It's personality Sam." Sam needed kind words now, not sarcasm. In these moments I wished our mother was alive, cos I was pretty sure this was the type of conversation you had with your mother and not your father, and certainly not with your brother. "Don't be so shy. Have confidence. If you like a girl just talk to her right away and look at her like you want her, then she'll know you mean it."

"You haven't dated anyone since we got here. What's up with that?"

"You made me get a job! There's no time."

"Dean, that's a big load of BS and you know it." It was my turn to look away, unfortunately I was driving, so my options were limited. What did he want me to tell him? If things continued the way I hoped they would he'd have his answer soon enough.

"Did you sleep with Amanda?

"What? That was…like four years ago. Ancient history." Sam was looking at me with eyebrows raised, expectant like some little puppy. That was the look that always broke me. "She wanted me to meet her parents first. Nothing ever happened and Dad came back so we moved on." The chick flick conversation needed to be put to bed quickly.

"We have an invitation for dinner." Sam's mouth hung open to question me silently. "It's free food! So don't look at me like that. Be happy, it'll improve our budget. Look, Gregg has this big ass suburban nightmare house with matching patio and grill. Let's take advantage of it. "

Sam ran his hands through his hair like he always did while thinking. "I have homework."

"Genius boy, should take you what, an hour or two?" Sam's head bobbed in agreement. "Come on. I'm not letting you stay home in the condition you're in. Next thing I know you'll be watching Lifetime movies. I'm responsible for you. Watching those movies would be some form of child abuse, it's just wrong."

"I'm not a child Dean." My name came out in one drawled whine. He caught something unspoken in my body language and added more with more maturity. "Okay, okay, I'll bring it with me, we'll probably be there all night." I'll meet Mr. Fantastic-Chevelle owner." Oh, a little too close to the truth sent a fresh wave of panic through my gut.

"There's the spirit. At this rate you're likely to be a party animal in like…forty years." Maybe I shouldn't rib him so much…naw, it was too much fun to play 'guess the Sammy face' each time I said something sarcastic. Besides, he seemed to have gotten past his gloomy mood over Amy.

"It's my job to do the little brother thing and check him out."

"What?" The soda I was drinking sprayed across the steering wheel.

"Make sure his car's good enough for ours. This is a car date right?"

"No! The car's bonded earlier. This is about food."

"Right, food. You finally met someone on your wave length Dean. I'm thrilled really. I told you settling down was a good thing."

***

Hours later, our bellies full, Sam excused himself from the patio and went inside to do his homework. This left Gregg and me alone. With Sam tucked safely out of sight we should be free to explore what happened this afternoon, but I wasn't the type to have long winded conversations about my feelings. Awkward moments like this were best relieved with humor or a come on.

Together, we settled down at the fire pit. Though the days were summertime warm the nights were getting chilly. The fire offered some warmth and the right opportunity to sit closely.

But I was still sitting several feet away from Gregg on a stone bench that might be pretty to look at, but was incredibly unkind to my body. The fire had long ago lost its ability to warm us and I could feel the cold of the bench soaking through my jeans uncomfortably. Across from me sat Gregg, the picture of ease and achievement. The fire light softened his features, taking away any lines that might have shown the years between us. It was his lips that stood out, full and now wet as he took a sip from the beer he was drinking. If I hadn't been sitting on the bench from hell I'd have leaned back and taken it all in. And been noticed, but wasn't that the point?

I should have been thinking about our next hunt, what clues Dad had put together last time we talked. He wanted me to join him; leave work, pull Sam from school. Sam wasn't going to have any of this, so I'd been stalling Dad. Only, I knew deep down I wasn't up for another hunt, not now, not when things were just getting interesting. All I could think was what would I do if Gregg was a girl. There was no doubt in my mind that if he was a member of the finer sex I'd be all over it with some cheesy pick up line.

I thought of all the lame approaches I'd used on women. They weren't gonna work on a man in his thirties, it would be an insult. Gregg looked over and I was thankful for the dim lighting when my face grew hot from embarrassment. He'd caught me staring, and he held my gaze. Then he made the first move. And it wasn't anymore refined than something I would have said.

"Dean, need another?" He waved his empty Heineken at me.

"Yeh, sure." No one cared for me, that was my job. But not to Gregg. He returned to the patio not only with two new beers, but with a blanket. He put it around me and sat down a few feet away on the glider.

For all I knew maybe Sam was batting for the other team. The boy had never had a girlfriend and seemed to draw an unnatural pleasure from his books. Let the kid make love to his books all he wanted, but I wanted flesh and bone, the feel of a warm body holding me, yielding flesh. The brush of lips across my jaw line as the found their way to mine.

I've dated plenty of girls. Fact is, I'm a love em and leave em kinda guy. You have to be in this business; it's the only way to keep your head. But maybe I did want more than just a casual fling. I think I realized that a couple of years ago when I met Cassie. She wasn't going to let me use her, and she commanded the kind of respect demonstrated by gentlemen. And up until meeting her, I'd never been more than a cad.

I discovered what love felt like, and when it's taken away, the empty hollow void sets in. I had really cared about Cassie to the point where even though it had been two weeks I felt I had this bond with her that could never be broken. Then, I got so washed up in my sentimentality that I told her the truth. I told her I was a hunter. Understandably, she did what normal girls should do when presented with the truth that monsters really exist and people like myself fight them. She ran.

For two years I wondered if I could ever fill up the hole she left. I didn't think it possible that I would find her replacement in a man.

"Looks like you could use the blanket too." And me and the blanket moved to the glider beside Gregg. I opened it to include him.

"I was hoping you'd say that." His leg was so close, touching, he kept his right hand in a death grip on his beer; his left held the blanket. "I couldn't believe my luck last week. Another classic Chevy fan. So, you met my baby, what do you think?"

"Gregg, I need to be honest with you." I wasn't sure he'd take this as an insult. "I think two cylinders need a rebore." He looked worried so I added. "But I mean I'm not gonna know until I do a pressure test. She's ill." I lowered my eyes. What came next was a shock. Gregg laughed a hearty laugh.

"I thought you'd say, get the f away from me."

"What? Why would I say that?"

"Dean. Ever since you walked out of that bathroom, and I saw your face. I've just wanted to…." His voice trailed off leaving me hanging.

"What?"

"Something's a little a little dangerous about you. If I say the wrong thing…it's like you'll haul off and punch me."

My mouth opened. I knew what I wanted, and it wasn't this man's blood. In the dark, with no one around, no one to judge me, I needed to be honest. "No, that's not gonna happen." I added softly. "Tell me."

"Ever since I saw you walk out of that bathroom I've wanted to devour you. Those lips, I want them." No one who was filled with desire should look as in pain as he did. "I want you."

I didn't answer, didn't have to. My eyes were closed as he leaned into me, never taking his hands from the blanket. The lips that found mine were surprisingly soft. His kiss was brief, gentle, and then it was over. I'd kissed longer than that in the fourth grade. Gregg moved back a few inches from my face. There was a pause as he waited to gauge my response.

In the faint light I wasn't sure he'd know my look was one of wanting, tinged with a little fear of the unknown.

"Kiss me back."

I answered his demand by standing up way too urgently. After taking a long drink from my beer for courage, I really looked at him. If only he was a chick. But he wasn't and that was the whole reason why I was acting like a thirteen year old boy hot for an older girl and at risk of sprouting a woody. I needed air, I needed space, time to think.

"Are you leaving already?" Gregg looked worried.

"It's Sammy, he's gonna be out here any second now, I told him we'd leave by ten."

Gregg reached for me, his hand only inches away from mine. As I stepped closer, his arm went around my waist, but our time together was interrupted by the sound of the sliding glass door of the patio. Then Sam's voice called out, "Dean, can we go soon? I'm tired."

I wasn't sure what he'd seen and realized in my euphoria I simply didn't care.

"Yeh, Sam, we'll go." I looked to Gregg, whose mouth hung in shock.

"Are you a psychic or something?"

Now that was funny. "Naw, I just know my little brother and all his anal little quirks. Call the shop tomorrow if you still wanna set up an appointment for the pressure test." There was more reason for me to say call, but all I could do was hope it bought me some time to figure out what I needed.

Confined to the car with my brother for the fifteen minute drive I feared he'd start another chick-flick moment. But Sam was uncharacteristically silent which left me to my own thoughts. Had I shown Gregg how I really felt about him? Could he even tell I was interested? The next day couldn't come soon enough for me.


	8. Chapter 8: State of Love and Trust

**A/N**: I really would love to have a review. If you've read this chapter ...please [insert Sam's puppy dog eyes here] review!

Please note: this chapter was originally longer, but I want to keep it no more than PG-13 and was too squeamish to post the entire story that happened after Dean went over to Gregg's. Unfortunately, homophobia is still prevalent in society and what happens between two men is often seen as more pornographic than if the same situation happened between a heterosexual couple. It's too bad. Dean, here, is just looking to be loved and spoiled.

**Chapter Eight: ****State of Love and Trust**

"Well, what's the verdict?" Gregg stood near the door to the showroom where he'd been pacing for the last twenty-minutes. His car had been in my hands that afternoon, as I had promised him two days ago.

I closed the hood to the Chevelle. "You have two busted out cylinders. It's not really something we'd take on here. Charlie'll know where to take them." My stomach grumbled, apparently very loudly and Gregg laughed. Laughter made his face more handsome than ever and I longed to close the distance between us and pull his body close to mine.

"Well, we'll do what has to be done." None of this had surprised him, the car was old, and it had been a bargain to buy. Gregg was half as likely to have a brand-new engine put in her than to get just the busted parts fixed. Money didn't seem to be an object in his life. He glanced at his watch. "Can I treat you to dinner?"

"How'd you know I was hungry?"

"Your stomach just announced it to the whole city. Think Charlie will let you go a little early today?" So it wasn't over yet, there was something more gong on that just a shared interest in cars or a man who was using me for my mechanical skills.

***

It turned out to be nearly an hour later before I could break free of work. Gregg had taken me to an unassuming little place. It didn't seem like him to be cheap, so I hoped he wasn't bringing me here out of embarrassment. He was worlds away from me, older, college educated, well off. I was a hunter playing mechanic, pretty damn good at being what people wanted me to be, changing to fit the situation, but still, on the inside I wasn't exactly comfortable with me. Not that anyone was going to be given the privilege of finding that out.

Gregg opened the door for me and ushered me through with a light touch to my back. "Don't worry, it's gay friendly." I wasn't worried, naw that wasn't the right word for the moment. I guess, hell, just hearing him say gay made me feel weird. Is that what he considered me now? Did that innocent kiss on his patio mean there was no turning back? We were greeted warmly by a girl about my age whose bright red hair and freckled face would have reminded me of Nicole Kidman if the actress were fifty pounds heavier.

"Hiya Maggie. Long time no see."

"Gregg Simon, it has been a while, but you haven't changed a bit." She eyed me up and down, gave a sigh and then motioned us to a free booth. "Mom's gonna be mad you came in on her day off."

"Give her my best." The waitress left us with menus and went to another table.

"Remember that picture of Paul? Maggie's mom, Jennifer, is Paul's older sister."

"And she doesn't mind you coming here?"

"There were no hard feelings. Paul and I just had very different career goals. He's in LA now, from what I hear he's really happy. I think KC kinda held him back. And I was just starting at the firm. Just didn't work out."

"So's that why you call this place gay friendly?" I looked to the other tables. It was still a little earlier than the dinner rush. Two women were chattering away with each other, but seemed to be friends. Another was a group of guys and girls. We seemed to be the only table with just two guys together. "This doesn't look like a gay bar." Gregg laughed.

"It's not. But there are some places where you can be yourself and most of the people who come here know that. Take those two for example," his eyes wandered to the women I'd noticed moments before, "pretty sure they're together. Don't sweat it, just saying this place is safe."

"The summer I first moved here a guy was found murdered and at first the police thought it was a serial killing, but it just turned out to be random, nothing to do with his sexuality. But I'd just moved here from San Fran, so I was pretty freaked out. There are places I could take you that are a whole lot different than this. That's where the guy was picked up. Probably thought it'd just be a date."

"You can never be to careful. I worry about Sam a lot, my dad, screwing up the cars at work, the future. This." Heat crept into my face at my sudden babbling.

"I like it when you blush, emphasizes your freckles."

"I don't have freckles."

"It's not like they're plastered over your face like Maggie's or anything. Seriously, they're cute." I really felt the heat then, contrary to what anyone may say., I hate being the center of attention, truly.

"But you're right Dean, gotta watch your back. Even Milk got assassinated in what you'd assume was a safe city. Can never be too careful." I nodded in response being uncertain of whom he was referring to. Gregg a perceptive civilian, that's for sure.

"Harvey Milk, mayor of San Francisco, he was openly gay and murdered. Sometimes I forget you're only twenty-two, you seem so much older."

"Hey, there's no gray hairs on this head!"

"You know what I mean, more mature. Most guys your age are just out for one night stands. I'm not into using someone and then dumping them. Just so you know where I stand."

I thanked my father I was a trained liar who could school my face to show another exactly what they wanted to see. Gregg never needed to know about my need to attract women to me like a moth to light. To tell him the reasons I suspected lay deeper than a need for sexual gratification, to tell him what I really needed-not gonna happen. _Do not scare him away_! The voice inside my head cautioned.

"I'm not gonna treat you badly." I'd spoken these same words to girls before if they happened to ask me where I felt our relationship was headed. "Being with you right now is something I want; you, me….let's just say I spend a lot of my day thinking about the next time I'll see you. It was like that right at first, but I didn't even know why. Like I knew you forever."

And then the chick-flick moment was blessedly over. In fact, that was one cool thing about dating a guy, they weren't all that into caring and sharing either…or so I thought.

"All this has been fun, though adding another dimension to it could make it even more interesting."

"What exactly do you have in mind?"

"Continuing where we were two nights ago…"

"Oh, that." He needn't know how young it all made me feel. Like a virgin, but I was too old for such sap. His face fell at my words, was he always worried about what I said? Or did my face give off some frightening "don't F with me vibe?"

"I mean, that, I just mean that I'm sorry I couldn't stay."

"Did you like when I kissed you?" He looked all coy. "You never kissed me back."

"Yeh. Sam's a real tyrant, and he doesn't know yet what's going on."

"Neither do I. What are we doing here Dean Winchester?"

Maggie's timing couldn't have been better if scripted. "Havin' some beef!" The appearance of the food spared me further depth into the emotional world. I was shoving a mouthful of excellent KC burger into my mouth when Gregg asked a question I never liked answering.

"So you and Sam seem real close. You're lucky you know." He took a quick swallow from his soda and continued. "Where's your mother and father?"

The burger sank in my gut. "My mom died when I was four."

"I'm sorry."

"There was a fire….I didn't see her or anything , just remember the heat; Dad telling me to carry my brother outside." I rubbed my palm across my mouth nervously. "She didn't make it out." Gregg reached over to pat my arm while I shook off that horrible feeling I always got when I had to replay that event aloud.

"Sorry I brought that up Dean, it was thoughtless of me."

"You're not the first to ask or the last." Sufficiently recovered I went back to my food and hoped this emotion crap would be short lived. If this was what being in a relationship met, I wasn't sure it was worth it. I had enough on my plate wondering what secret plan Sam had up his sleeve and when Dad would catch wind of it.

"Who raised you, besides your dad?" Gregg had the same look of concern I'd seen before when I'd told him about the broad at the Hillside bar. If I didn't like him so much I'd of clocked him one. But something in the way he stared at me said I could trust him, and I've always been a good judge of character. So I opted to be civil.

"Just him."

"Must've been hard. Do you have a grandmother? Aunts?" My pulse quickened, fight or flight, and I responded like an animal cornered. There was a TV over the bar, just over my right shoulder. It suddenly held my interest far more than the food or the direction of our conversation.

"Chiefs just might have a good season this year." I said a little too enthusiastically between bites of my burger. "With Vermeil coaching maybe'll make it to the Super Bowl." I watched the TV with excitement as the sports reporter gave the latest on the home town team. I'd never settled in one place long enough to find team loyalty, now was my chance. I looked from the TV to Gregg and noticed his gaze was fixed on me. Worriedly.

"What?" I shook my head. Football was a nice safe topic, maybe he cared little for sports. I know I never did, but what the hell, when in Rome.

"You never had a maternal figure." Oh crap, he was still on _that_ topic. Energy flowed in me and I felt my eyes tingle-a smile lit up my face. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew it didn't match the situation, but I couldn't stop myself. I continued my rambling.

"So your firm get you box seats? I heard the box seats at Arrowhead are the best in the NFL, not that I'd know, but I'd love to try them out. There's food too right, and it's all free. Maybe…"

"I hate football." Gregg deadpanned. He reached his hand towards my face, but I was fast, pushing back with my feet, my chair scraping the floor, causing heads to turn, but marking the end of the uncomfortable moment. Gregg needed to stop pressing me. He didn't understand the way Sam would have, didn't know what cues I'd give to warn him I'd had enough. I breathed heavy and shut my eyes-finally feeling that my senses had calmed-I opened them to see Gregg in the process of paying the bill. His motions were all matter of fact as if nothing had happened.

And strangely, he was stubborn, or horny. Maybe both, maybe he was learning how I ticked, cos the next thing he said was the right thing to improve my mood.

"You wanna go back to my place? "


	9. Chapter 9: Truth or Dare

Hello! I began this story 2 years ago! My apologies for leaving it hanging. I hate incomplete fics! Sorry. This will be finished! Hope you read and review. BTW, I chose this monster before the Supernatural writers did.

wwwww

Chapter Nine

**Truth or Dare**

The next two weeks passed quickly catching me up and churning me around like effervescent bubbles in champagne. That was me, giddy like a little boy, the center of attention, someone needed, and not needed for just a job or a hunt, but just because it was me. No strings attached. And I didn't over think it, didn't spend time thinking about how it would end. No doubt about it, there would be an end, good things never happened to me. Sooner or later, we'd have to move on, on to another job, and back to the world of the hunter. Would I be able to return? Had something in me changed, something so fundamental that everyone would know Dean Winchester had gone a little "soft".

No one was made aware of these inner curiosities, I lived the moment, flirting and joking as always. Keeping up with the "Dean Show". But the times with Gregg were the best times, those early days when you are on your best behavior. You know, when all your flaws and all the nasty little secrets you keep are concealed. When the person you know is just getting to know you and isn't worried yet about the big picture.

If Sam noticed the lift in my mood immediately, he never made an issue of it. He spent those fall days busy at school. He'd just be arriving home when I'd be off to Gregg's. He never questioned my coming and going and I never asked him to account for his where-abouts. Our agreed upon silence seemed like a good way to not deal with the fact that I was dating a man. Something I wasn't too sure Sam would approve of. And if I had to face Sam, he might make me think about what was happening. He'd want me to talk about my feelings, tell him what it was about Gregg that attracted me to him, tell him when I first felt the urge to be with someone of my own gender. Maybe he'd even ask me if I needed counseling. Sam was like that. Too much time on his hands if you ask me.

Not like me. Growing up, Dad kept me busy. If I wasn't honing my skills as a hunter, I was looking out for Sam, maybe getting a few weeks of school in here and there. There wasn't a lot of down time, 'cept in the Impala on long stretches, and then, you knew, if you had any sense in your head, that it was time to get some sleep, cos you never know when you might need to be sharp.

Now, there was more than enough time to overanalyze and I felt if we stayed in one place long enough I'd find myself turning into a pensive geek like my brother. Already his manner of speaking had crept into my own, waging war with my usual swagger. But, to be honest to myself, I knew it was all to impress Gregg. There was no way I'd let him see me as ignorant and uneducated.

Of course trouble has a way of finding Winchesters, and it was just a matter of time before the cat would be out of the bag.

Charlie had given me the weekend off, and Gregg seized the opportunity to plan a trip for us to Lake Truman. He wasn't willing to take no for an answer when I tried to give a million excuses for why I couldn't leave Sam alone without actually giving the true story.

When Sam caught me arguing on the phone and put the story together, he joined in the conspiracy to make me take time off. And so it was at 4:30 in the morning I hauled my ass out of bed just to go fishing.

My grogginess was gone the instant Gregg pulled into the parking lot. The scent of clean shampoo and shaving cream greeted me as he took my face in his hands to give me a long good morning kiss, the dim street light concealing us.

When I got into the SUV he handed me a travel mug filled with coffee and a white paper bag.

"What's in the bag?"

"Special treat for you." I peered in to see something Gregg had promised days ago.

"Brownie a la Amsterdam?" His sly grin answered that question for me.

Several miles later and I'd eaten two of the brownies and long since finished off the coffee. Maybe it was the treat, or maybe it was being with someone who cared about me, but for the first time ever I felt the world was at peace, and if you told me there wasn't any random unpredictable shit, I'd have believed you.

For what seemed like hours to me, I sat staring at Gregg's profile, thinking how beautiful he was. "Take a picture, it'll last longer." He turned to me with longing in his eyes and added. "It's a good thing we're at the cabin."

www

Later, I lay with my face toward the window. The lake seemed a football field distance away, its surface gently rippling beyond the tips of the pines that ringed it. Otherwise all was still. The busy summer season was over, and it seemed like it would be left all to us this weekend.

Gregg shifted and nuzzled my neck. His warm lips kissed me behind the ear. "We really should get outside."

"Umm, just another minute or two." Laying there was heaven and I felt the extra sleepiness bestowed on me by the magical brownie. I closed my eyes savoring the bliss that was not suppose to be a part of my world.

And I opened them to something strange. It took a minute to adjust to the light beyond the curtains, but when I did I detected movement. Out on the water, which had been lifeless before, there was a ripple. Suddenly, shimmering in the sun, a dark shape lifted from the water. "Looks like the fish are jumping." I stated. "Maybe we'll catch dinner." Even as the words left my mouth I didn't believe them.

"Your eyes are playing tricks on you. Happens sometimes. This time a year, there's nothing jumping. Come on," he was out of bed and had one leg into his jeans already, "let's get out there before the sun sets."

Anyone who says they're out for an afternoon of fishing is just using an euphemism. Got that? Gregg and me had a couple of poles, bait and tackle, the cooler of food and beer, the works. Sure we cast the lines out and hoped to get a nibble on the other end, but mostly we just sat together in a lazy silence, the kind I really liked. Just the sounds of nature and being with someone I adored. I didn't love Gregg, but I also didn't see him as something cheap. I realized that over the course of the two months we'd known each other he now belonged to that very tiny circle of people I'd die for.

Gregg must have taken my expression as an invitation. He pulled me close, touching my lips gently with his. We were in a cove of the lake and not easily seen by the those who might be on the open water. I was pretty lost in the moment and didn't hear the sound of another boat's motor until it was closing in on us.

I looked up to see an intruder in our little cove. An intruder who just happened to have an official emblem of the Missouri Department of Conservation emblazoned on its side. As the Game Warden pulled up close, I rose from my seat to meet him. Given how intensely we had been sucking face I was pretty sure the Warden had seen it all.

"Hey, Warden, how's it going today?" I went for the patented Dean Winchester bluster, puppy dog eyes of doom were Sammy's trade mark for dealing with stressful situations; I was soon to learn Gregg's.

"Well boys, nice fall we're havin'. See you're getting some fishing in. Mind if I see your permit?"

"Could if you had a few hours, see, uh, I bought the permits, but I got up so early that I wasn't even thinking straight." Gregg shrugged and made a face that made him look stupid, guess he was trying hard to come across sincere. The game warden looked unaffected so Gregg added. "They're at my house, in Kansas City."

"That's too bad. You know you have to have a permit while fishing."

"Officer, can't you cut us some slack. I mean, look at this bucket? Empty, not even a nibble..."

"It's no wonder why." Officer By the Book mumbled as he took out his citation pad. Then suddenly I realized he'd definitely seen us kissing and he knew...he knew what we were, and I was embarrassed. Then I was embarrassed that I felt such a thing, but all the while I was trying to talk, couldn't just shut up and let things be.

"What's that suppose to mean?" What the Hell did I think he was going to tell me?

"The poles, they're not exactly championship quality. You get 'em at Walmart or a yard sale?"

Gregg shot a disapproving look at me, his face dark and serious as he stepped in to save me. He regained control of his emotions and made one final attempt at saving face. "We're new to fishing, but we were trying to do it right. Sorry about the permits, won't happen again."

I guess Mr. Authority had enough of us. He'd completed whatever it was he had to fill in on the notepad and met Gregg's eyes. Me, he ignored. "I'm gonna write you a ticket, but I'll cut you a break, just one ticket, y'all can split the cost later. So who wants his name on the citation?

"Gregg Simon, need ID?" What the Hell? I could have taken the stupid ticket, I sure didn't need him taking the hit, but like I often do I opened my big mouth.

"No, I'll take it. I had the pole."

"Dude, shut up! It was my idea to come here in the first place."

"You two done arguing like a couple of teenage girls? County'd be happy to take extra revenue." He motioned to his pad.

"Please, forgive him." Why did his glare make me want to smack him. Was this his way of showing off his superiority? "Thanks, have a great weekend officer."

The game warden was on his way back toward the main section of lake when I finally spoke to Gregg. "You don't have to protect me. I'm more than able to care for myself."

"What? Over a ticket? Really, it was my idea. Not an issue." He went over to the dash where he had placed his wallet and stuck the ticket within. A little more than just irritation showed when he turned back. "You play nice, you act humble with authority. 'Specially when there's other stuff you don't want him to know about. Not the time for bravado, got that?"

"Don't you dare condescend to me! I was looking out for you. You think I can't handle one 5-0, please. S'not the first time."

"I'm not your little brother, okay? I no more need your protection than I need your money….i just know it would be easier for me to take the ticket. Stop being so defensive. Everything in life is not a complicated game." He didn't look angry anymore. "At least it doesn't have to be."

"Then what'd you want from me?" Crap! I'd gone right for that touchy feely moment and I hadn't meant to, it just slipped from my mouth.

"You, just you." Gregg wasted no time answering me. "I'm not into bullshit…your independence is cool. I get that. But you don't always have to be the one making all the decisions, all right?" The tone of his last word showed that he still felt a little unsettled around me and that bothered me. I'd never set out to scare him, guess I just came on a little too strong.

"Lately, it's just me and Sam; so I'm just used to being in charge." I gnawed at my lower lip in contrition. "This count as an argument?"

"Why?"

I slid my arm around his waist. "Make up sex?" He answered me by closing the remaining inches between us and covering my mouth with his own.

After an eternity of kisses we stopped to actually go back to our poles. With my attention no longer on the heat of our contact I was free to extend my senses to the area surrounding us. And was instantly met with silence. There was no noise. Where there had been the incessant chatter of birds in the trees surrounding the lake, there was now an eerie silence. And the insects that gave their last summer salutes? Gone.

Man doesn't spend his life as a hunter to ignore such signals.

And apparently neither did Gregg. "Hear that?"

"That's… not… normal…" My eyes darted along the edge of the shore searching for a predator. Truman Lake was fairly populated, but still, there was always the chance of a stray bear or bobcat. Neither were worrisome to us in the water, and there was zero chance a gator would find its way this far north, still, when your wildlife goes silent, there's something wrong.

Animals always have the greatest preternatural sense, but other than the silence, there appeared to be nothing wrong.

"Why don't we head into another little cove?" Gregg had the engine running and the boat in motion before he'd finished his sentence.

We broke into the open waters toward the middle of the lake and saw one other boat nearby. Damn, it was the Game Warden. He hadn't gone far from where we were at. His boat was stopped in the middle of the lake and he seemed intent on something inside the boat. Probably the paper work for Gregg's ticket.

We headed past the man with just a polite nod and turned the boat towards the wider part of this branch.

"Wanna drive it?" Gregg gestured toward the wheel. I placed my hands on his, enjoying the contact. Gregg stepped back and took a seat behind me. "Nothing to it. Just no sudden turns."

It was as lovely as driving the Impala, and just as easy, but I hadn't been at the controls for more than ten minutes when I heard Gregg screech.

"Oh my God, oh my God! Dean, oh shit. Dean! Stop the boat." For a brief second I panicked and almost forgot how to stop her, but then the boat stopped so abruptly I felt Gregg's body thump into mine. At least he was in the boat and not hurt, but his face was stricken with horror.

His eyes were terrified and pleading. I knew that look; I'd seen it plenty of times before on folks who just had their world rocked by seeing something that didn't quite fit into the neat tidy ideas of normal. Gregg had seen something supernatural. The first question was what, and the second, how would we kill it without any weapons.

All these thoughts passed through my mind in a flash and I had my hands on Gregg gripping his arms and holding him still.

"Get it together man!" I shouted a little unkindly. Like it or not, Gregg was my current and only choice for back up and it wouldn't due to have him squealing and shaking like a princess.

"That thing…that thing." Gregg's eyes were wild with shock. "Ripped out his throat." His lips trembled but no sound came out. "Wasn't human was it?"

"Not likely. Now breathe!" He closed his eyes and did just that; when he opened them they were no longer panicked. "Tell me, what exactly did you see?"

"I don't know, it couldn't be real, could it?"

"Trust me on this, if you saw something, what ever it was, no matter how crazy, you have to tell me. Everything."

"The game warden was still sitting in his boat like when we passed him. Then this thing shot out of the water and landed in the boat. Next thing I know they're fighting but not really, like you can't call it fighting when a cheetah takes down a baby zebra, it was so fast. Just hauled him right into the water. That's it. That's not an alligator,." Mouth held open in mid-sentence, Gregg was the picture of someone who just had normal destroyed but was desperate to get it back. "Do you think it was an anaconda?"

"Anaconda? Do I look like Jennifer Lopez? Is this the frickin' Amazon? Now tell me, did this thing look at all human?"

Gregg bit his lip, it trembled, but he would not answer.

"It did, didn't it?" I put my hand around the back of his neck and pulled him close. His trembling had started to get the best of him and I needed to get him back to the shore.

"Female, long hair, breasts?"

"How'd you know?"

"Trust me, I'd rather not have to tell you, but we need to get the Hell out of here before she comes back. I'm thinking she needs time to digest, but I'm not too up on the lore and I'm not here to test her out. Can you drive this boat? I'd rather keep an eye on the water."

Gregg quietly took control of the boat and minutes later we both were relieved to have her at the dock and our feet on dry land.

"I need a drink." Gregg stated as we hauled the cooler up the dock and towards the cabin. "And not beer, something stronger."

"Me too, let's get inside and warmed up. There's nothing we can do at this moment."

"We could call 911."

"And have the cops all over this place messing things up?"

"You really got something against authority?"

"Only when they don't know what they are dealing with."

"And what are we dealing with Mr. Paranormal Expert?"

"Don't I wish. That thing you saw, it's called a lamia. A water monster. It's what the Loch Ness monster really is, not that I've ever been to Scotland, but it's common knowledge that water creatures are all forms of lamia. They usually like to prey on men, but I'm not sure if they prefer to hunt alone or in groups. I wish my dad was here, he'd probably know, or at least know who to ask."

"How can you be so calm and analytical?" Gregg's features relaxed, maybe the effect of the whiskey, but he was still rocking slightly and replaying what he saw. "She ate him."

"Come here." He folded into me, relaxing only once he felt our bodies touch. I held him close, running my hand over his back trying to reassure him. "This shit is all real, it's what we do. I never wanted you to know."

"You told me you'd be honest."

"Monsters have their own honesty clause. There's no way I was gonna tell you this, but now that you've seen it first hand, nor you won't think I'm lying. Because I never want to lie to you. Now, we have to put that monster down. We saw her kill one man, but who knows how long she's been in these waters. I'm going to call Sammy, have him come down here with the Impala."

"And getting the car and your little brother involved will help how?"

"There's an arsenal in the trunk, and Sam's a skilled hunter, even if he's still a little wet behind the ears. You feelin' any better?"

"Oh yeh, feels great hearing that monsters are real and my boyfriend kills them for kicks."

I wanted to correct him about the kicks, hunting was work not recreation, but I was too caught up on one word. Boyfriend. He'd just claimed me, and I didn't really know how that made me feel.


	10. Chapter 10: The Hunt

**Readers: Sam has arrived at the lake to help Dean and Gregg take down the monster!**

**Chapter Ten**

Sam!" I shouted too late. Watching helplessly while her tail came whipping around to catch Sam at the ankles, he flailed a bit and I thought he might catch himself, but being new to that gangly body and all, there he toppled into the lake.

Sam was a good swimmer, and his head resurfaced almost instantly and in time for me to see the look of panic on his face.

Without thought, I pivoted, machete in a two handed grasp, and came face to face with the monster. She was ugly up close. Two large eyes, no nose, several little tentacles where he mouth should be and that mouth was growing wider.

My hesitation was all she needed, she was fast and what might be called an arm shot forward towards mine trying to knock the machete free of my hands. I took a step back and centered my weight. Then I heard Sam's voice.

"Hey baby, don't you want me?" She turned towards his taunt, I swung. I felt my blade contact flesh..and I remembered no more.

"Dean! Dean! Answer me!" It was Sam's voice, far away. She'd hurt him, I'd killed the bitch. Sam's underwater, help him out.

"Dean, say something." A hand patted my face, a cool forehead rested on my own.

"Ammy?" I managed; then promptly began to cough. There were hands on me rolling me to my side. The vile lake water came spewing out along with the sandwich I'd eaten hours before. Then my eyes shot open and alert. Not Sam, Gregg. Where was Sam? Had Gregg let him die? No, he'd helped him to the boat after the lamia knocked him into the water. Hands behind me pulled me up and then I heard the familiar laugh of my brother.

"Dean, I'm right here. It's over, you took her head clear off!"

"Yeh, great aim there dude!" It was Gregg. They were both safe and all three of us were in the fishing boat.

"I better get us back to shore, just in case she has a sister."

"Come on Dean, say something."

I was talking, or so I thought, but it seemed they were talking around me. Sam, who was never all that hands on had his arm around me. I felt like I was practically in his lap. Gregg needed to slow down or we would go smashing into the dock, then we'd all be screwed, forget the lamia. And was she dead?

I remembered bringing the machete down, but had I made contact? Why wouldn't anyone answer me? My teeth were chattering and despite Sam's arm I was shaking uncontrollably.

"Come on walk!" Sam ordered. I could barely tell he had most of my weight supported over his shoulder.

An Irish coffee that was more whiskey than coffee was handed to me. It's warmth bringing me back to life.

Gregg looked as pale as the white mug he handed to me. He'd made one for himself and Sam. After what he'd seen he had every right to be freaked. Yet, he was pretty steady given he was a civilian.

"So this is what you guys do?"

"Sure beats a desk job."

"I guess, but, these creatures are real, so I'm guessing there's other things out there that maybe I don't want to know about."

Sam was laughing, no giggling, the combination of his youth and the whiskey getting to him faster than with me. "Ghosts, witches, strighas all real. But Dad swears that Big Foot, just a hoax."

It was Gregg's turn to laugh. "God, I feel so naïve."

"Your lucky. Things we know about, no one should have to."

"So how'd your family get mixed up in all this? Are you like the Masons, like some secret society?"

"I prefer the X-Men." I joked.

Gregg had asked the inevitable question, the one that I knew would cause a dam to break somewhere. I wasn't about to be the one to make the full confessional. I shot Sam a glare that said in no uncertain terms: "tell him about Mom and I end you."

"After our mom died, Dad couldn't hold down a regular job, so this opportunity came up and he took it."

"Yeh, but you were a toddler, right?"

"Well, not by then."

"But still, you were school aged? So how does a kid learn how to wield a machete like that? And have no fear?" He looked towards Sam who now sported the face of sobriety. Strange how the topic of how we got into hunting can do that to you.

"My Dad was a Marine, he had all kinds of training, and he wanted us to be able to protect ourselves."

"You must have started really young." I didn't answer. Instead I headed towards the bathroom.

"Shower time, got to get that nasty stink of the lamia off me." And with that, I managed to shut Gregg down.

www

"You get bruised like this all the time?"

Shit, Gregg had crept up behind me way too silently. I couldn't even remember half the bruises and old scars that I might have at any given time. I still was foggy on what the lamia had done to me. According to Sam and Gregg, I had taken off her head, but as she was dying, her tail wrapped around me, pulling me into the water. Both Sam and Gregg had jumped in after me. The monster had pulled me deep into the lake, but fortunately she'd lost her grip and they pulled me to the surface.

I turned to face him. "Job hazard." I did my best Sam as an abused puppy look and it worked.

"Who takes care of you?" Greg already had his arms on my chest.

"Nobody." His arms pulled me closer.

"I'd like it to be me."

www

Later, when I came downstairs I saw that Sam was curled up on the couch, arms wrapped around a throw pillow. He was safe, healthy, loved. Not that I was gonna say those words out loud, but I'm sure he knew his big brother would look out for him, that I loved him more than anyone on Earth.

Gregg's words as we had drifted off to sleep echoed back to me. "Who takes care of you?" Dad tried, but he hadn't really in a long time. It was just me and Sam, and I just couldn't loose my little brother. If he suspected the truth about my relationship with Gregg, he wasn't showing it. I grabbed a blanket and covered my little brother before returning to the loft, thoughts heavy.

When Sam knew the truth would he disown me the way Gregg's brother had?


	11. Chapter 11: Three Secrets

**Chapter Eleven**

I awoke to the smell of coffee and bacon and wandered into the kitchen. That oversized tome Sammy called a Lit book sat open on the table before him. Leave it to my brother to remember to bring his homework along on a hunt. Gregg stood before the stove and the two were talking gravely when I entered, they stopped.

"Don't let me interrupt."

"I was telling Sam all about my experience at Stanford and the west coast. Sam tells me you've never been to California. You gotta see it Sam, you can go from the Pacific to the mountains all in one day. It's exceptional."

"And Palo Alto is near San Fran?"

"South. But we'd go up there quite a bit. You know clubbing, Castro."

"The Cuban dictator?" Gregg laughed loudly and poked me in the stomach. When our eyes met it was as if he were asking my permission to continue. It was now or never, to tell Sam or to pretend we were no more than friends, to see if Sam would still accept me, different.

"Castro's the gay neighborhood of San Francisco. People who live there don't have to put on false exteriors. You see you're fair share of transgenders, and some of the most beautiful drag queens in the world, but mostly it's just couples who are living normal lives, shopping, hanging at a café, on their way to work. San Fran had a way of making me feel very comfortable, letting me know there was nothing wrong with me. Missouri is rather conservative, don't you think."

I heard someone wheezing and realized it was me.

"Dean, breathe." Sam ordered and I sat down across from him. "So. You two are a couple?"

Gregg stayed silent, knowing it was best to let me direct the conversation with my brother.

"Yes." My answer no more than a whisper.

"I thought so; I mean you only hang out together like everyday. And well, there's the little looks you give each other."

"Go ahead Sam, tell me what's really on your mind. Tell me how much you can't believe it, how disgusted you are….take a swing if you want. Just don't drive off in my car, cos she's mine and that just wouldn't be right."

Sam placed his coffee mug on the table heavily. His face was pensive and his eyes stared off into the other room. I waited for a sign, anything, to let me know how he felt. Gregg remained silent, and nearly forgot to pull the bacon from the stove before it burned. He'd been through this with his family years before, with not such a good outcome.

"It's probably best we don't tell Dad." Sam got up and made his way to the coffee maker. "Gregg, you need a refill?"

"Yeh, that'd be great."

We mechanically reached for the food and ate. The silence finally broken by Gregg.

"Sam should be visiting some colleges now, to help decide where he wants to apply."

"We don't have that kind of money."

"There's financial aid, scholarships, work study. People do it. If you want this for yourself badly enough, you can make it happen." Sam said nothing and I found myself clenching and unclenching my jaw.

"This is what you two were discussing when I walked in. Don't you think we've had enough stressful reveals for one weekend?"

"Yeh, I'd say going to college ranks right up there with monsters are real and my brother is gay as being really contentious topics of conversation. Brilliant students attending college, definitely deviant behavior."

"That's not what I mean. You don't understand."

"Enlighten me."

"They have to protect me. We don't know exactly what from. It's just a mandate. Take care of Sammy; no one asks me my opinion on the matter. I'm just a subordinate, suppose to follow orders like a good little soldier, just like Dean is. We're John Winchester's little marine unit, just the three of us against all that bad stuff. A real team sticks together, cos there's no I in team."

_Sam wasn't even done yet. I hadn't seen him angry like this since he broke it to Dad that he and I were moving to Kansas City. That night, he laid the plan out to Dad and Dad simply said no. Then he made the grave mistake of telling Sam it was an order. All of Sam's righteous anger and pent up wrath came out then. "Stop me." He was out the door before either of us could catch him, but I knew he'd return, since he had nothing on him, and since I was an integral part of the plan succeeding I figured he just needed to cool off._

_Dad had other ideas. He told me to pack up and move out. He wanted Sam to learn a lesson about being alone versus sticking together, but he didn't know Sam the way I did. Sam would do what ever he thought was right, consequences be damned. _

_I followed Dad's truck out onto the highway, but I kept calling Sam's phone until finally he picked up. I went to get him._

"_I'm not taking you to Dad, we're headed out to KC, let's see if your plan works, genius."_

When Sam was done with his "explanation" he stormed off into the bathroom. Sam's plan may not have been perfect, but it had it's perks. One of them was having some regular income for once and the other was sitting at the table with me. I'd made a friend who was more than that. I had to admit, I was enjoying this vacation from the hunting life, and if I thought deeper, I knew I was falling in love. And I knew this fantasy land couldn't last forever. Just as Sam wouldn't be with us this time next year.

"Sam." I shouted. "If you want to look at colleges we'll go visit some, okay?"

My brother opened the bathroom door and peaked out. "You're with me on this?" He'd been pissed only a moment ago, but now his face was eagerly looking for my approval.

"No, not completely thrilled that you want to move away, but I kinda figure I owe ya."

"How?"

"For letting me have this." I spread my arms to indicate the room, sending a smile to Gregg. The tension still hung like a thick mist. Too many secrets had been revealed, and there were more questions now, and worries, and no answers. Life had suddenly become more complicated for the Winchester brothers, and I wasn't quite sure what we were suppose to do.

WWW

The weekend, had definitely not gone as planned. But, I'd say killing a monster without Dad's assistance, and having a brother who doesn't mind that you're gay and having a boyfriend who doesn't mind that you're a hunter. Well yeh, that's a weekend. Just not one you'd be chatting about at the water cooler come Monday morning.

We arrived back at the apartment just after the sun had set. Sammy yawned, making an obvious point to dismiss himself inside so Gregg and I could have a bit of privacy.

"I gotta get some sleep, I got too much crap to do tomorrow for the meeting." I'd forgotten that Gregg would be going to Seattle for the rest of the week. I felt a clingy need to stay with him, but I wasn't going to show it.

My body defied me and Gregg replied. "Hey, I'm only going to be gone a few days."

"Still gonna miss you."

"Are you being all sentimental on me?"

"Who? Me? Never."

"I gotta get going, it's late." The warmth of his breath was on my neck as he made his way gently nibbling at my skin. Our lips connected and the delicate nips were gone replaced by a hungry urgency. This went on for quite some time, and I was aware we were making out in a parking lot in the dim light of the street lamp. But I didn't care.


	12. Chapter 12: Digging Holes

**Hello Readers! Here is some more angsty Dean:**

**Chapter Twelve**

The last time Dad made me dig the whole grave myself he'd been pissed I let Sam walk into a zombie filled crypt. That was two years ago, now we were both more careful. So why now? Probably had to do with Sam's senior year arrangement. Dad had shown up at Scott's Auto the same Friday afternoon I expected Gregg back from his business trip. Dad pressed me into service and drove north into some podunk area in the center of the state.

He'd been silent until now, when I was waist deep and he hovered above me holding the only damn flashlight between us.

"You got a girl in trouble?"

"No, Dad."

"You'd remember to stay safe. There's a lot of nasty diseases out there. Can never be too careful."

"Dad, you mad at me?" I'd gotten about three feet down into the earth. "Last time I did this you were angry at me for almost letting those zombies get Sam."

"Not angry, I'm worried. Keep digging, I want this salt and burn done by midnight."

I worked in silence. Once the casket opened and the bones were dealt with Dad helped me return the dirt to the grave. We walked out of the forest silently. I longed to fill the silence with chatter, but Dad was scaring me with his worry.

We probably drove a half hour before Dad opened up.

"I swung by last weekend to see you boys." I wondered if Dad had somehow caught wind that we'd taken down a lamia? But I knew Sam had not talked to him, not that those two said much to each other since the summer and Sam's decision to storm out on us.

"But if you were in town, why didn't you come to the apartment?"

"I did." Oh crap, he'd been there when we were at the lake.

"But I didn't see you." Play it cool Dean. I told myself, but I was fast becoming leery of my Dad's approach.

"You'd have seen me drive up if you weren't so busy kissing." All of a sudden my blood ran cold. Dad had seen me with Gregg, not just in the same car, but actually making out. Now this whole road trip made sense.

"So you're here to tell me what a freak I am, and the shame and, and, it was just a thing, just a dare, really." I found myself lying and babbling.

"Is that what you think? That you're a freak?"

"Well I am, 'specially according to you."

"Who was he? Look at me Dean, and answer the question."

"He's my friend. He's totally normal and respectable."

"Does your brother know about all this?"

"Yeh, but Sam doesn't say anything. He tells me to do what I think is right. He's a bit of a freak anyway. Why should he care what I do."

"Sam, isn't-?" Dad couldn't complete his question. What was he thinking? _A father's worse nightmare, both sons-gay!_

"Why don't you ask him yourself!"

"Watch your tone."

"Or what? You'll give me a dishonorable discharge from the Winchester Unit?"

"Dean, I'm just trying to help you understand that what you are doing isn't natural. It's not the way God intended-"

"Don't bring religion into this, you've never even gone to church!"

"Loving a man is wrong."

"It's not wrong!"

"He tell you that? You know he said it just to…" Dad swallowed disgustedly. "you know what I mean. You know how guys'll say anything to get their way with a girl, it's the same thing with this guy. 'Cept he's using you." I was facing the window, there was no way I wanted to see my father's face right now. And I could picture it, stern, but with this gentle paternal look. Talk about lying to get what you want. He wanted me out of this embarrassing mess, that's how he saw it. I didn't agree.

"Son, what's happening here is just a phase." Dad's voice had that soft sad quality he used when we were little boys. "You'll look back on this someday…how do you want to perceive it. It's like all those hippies doing drugs, free loving at Woodstock. Now where are they? Yuppies driving around in mini-vans! See, just something to get through.

I just don't want you hurt. And think about your brother…..he doesn't need to know."

"Dad, Sam isn't an innocent child…and I'm especially not."

"I know." Dad tried a new tactic. His method obvious. "Your friend know what we really do?"

"His name is Gregg. He kinda was there when a hunt sorta found us." I wasn't sure if Dad would be pissed or pleased about our lamia fight.

"What kinda hunt finds you?"

"We killed a lamia."

"Where the hell a lamia come from?"

"Truman Lake. She ate the game warden, but I took her head off." I smiled. Dad should be proud of me for killing the bitch, but his face was like stone, his mind deep in thought.

"Was your brother there?"

"Sam assisted, as did Gregg. He really kept his shit together. And Sam, wow, he's as good as me now."

"You should have called in backup."

"There was no time. Had to get her before she left the lake. They can go on land, right?"

"So the lore says. Never heard of a lamia in the US, so I'm not too sure." Dad continued with that soft tone of his. It didn't soothe me one bit. "Civilians shouldn't know what we do. We don't talk about our work, and we sure as hell don't drag them into a fight. That's the first rule. Family first."

"That's bull shit and you know it. How many times have we saved the civilian from the monster? Huh Dad? Of course people find out that this crap is real!" My voice was anything but calm. And Dad's now matched it.

"You're gonna end this. That's an order."

"Stop the truck!" Dad maintained his stone face, never taking his eyes from the road. "Stop it! Stop it, or I'll jump!" I screamed at him. That moved him a bit as he took his foot from the accelerator. But it took me opening the door for him to apply the brakes. Before he'd come to a complete stop I was out of there.

My right foot made contact with the ground first and twisted on the gravel. The rest of me must have followed ungraciously. I aware I was rolling; the truck must have been going faster than I thought. Somehow I ended up sitting on the shoulder of the road. I looked over my body starting with my feet, checking to see that there were no bones sticking out. Nothing really hurt, except my knees. There were matching holes on both pant legs, but no bones. At closer inspection it was obvious the right one was bleeding through the material.

Dad's truck was some distance ahead of me. He'd stopped for me. Guess maybe he wasn't giving me that dishonorable discharge from the family after all, or maybe he just wanted to make sure he hadn't been responsible for killing his first born. Dad was walking back towards me, but I was in no condition to get up and storm off. I wondered if I'd hit my head. As I ran my left hand over my hair, dust and pebbles came out, but there was nothing wet or sticky and nothing that felt like a lump or bruise.

"Dean! What were you thinking? Could have been killed!" He stood above me now, radiating a mix of concern and disgust in the dark night. Probably wearing a face I'd seen a hundred times when I was younger. Times when either Sam or I made a mistake and got ourselves or the other hurt. Most of the time it was little things, just like this, but still, we were all Dad had and he didn't want to see us injured.

He offered a hand to get me to my feet. "You okay?"

"Just peachy." I answered, shrugging off his hand.

"Let's get you patched up." Again his hand was on my elbow, attempting to lead me back to the truck. I threw him off more forcefully this time. He was angry, he had little patience for my insolence.

"No! You can't just patch me up! This." I pointed to myself with both hands. "Is who I am."

"Come on Dean, you're not thinking straight, you might have-"

I laughed like some lunatic. "That's what I've been trying to tell you." A big dumb ass grin spread across my face. "I'm not straight. But this is the clearest I've ever been."

"You want me to leave you here, injured, miles from a town?" When he reached for me I pivoted away, not the smartest thing to do in my condition. The ground tilted, my knee buckled, and there was Dad grasping my arms and putting his hand around my shoulder. The earth settled and I took a few steps forward, and a few more.

"It's okay, you can go." Now about twenty feet lay between us and my legs were moving easily.

"Dean, come back, you can't just wander off!" I didn't need to turn to picture what his face would look like. He and Sam argued so much the image was burned into my brain. He would think he looked stern and in control, but the face I saw was covered in grief and guilt.

"Leave me alone!" I shouted back towards him, and he did just that.

"I will leave your ass here, you hear me!" I heard dirt spit out from under his tires as he took off in the opposite direction.

Gregg's number wasn't yet on speed dial, but it was prominent in the numbers I had used in the past week. As I suspected, he was asleep, but upon hearing what had happened he told me he'd leave right away and come get me. Still, he was nearly two hours away.

I'd hobbled about a mile with not even as much as a single car passing me. Just when I was convinced I was alone in this god forsaken county, a car slowed. I was weaponless and tired. It better not have been some freak.

"You need some help?" It was typically someone I'd avoid, but not because of any sensible concern, but because it was a cop who had stopped to help me.

"No, I'm just headed to Unionville."

"Got friends there?"

"No, my friend's meeting me there to pick me up."

He moved his flashlight over me head to toe. His eyes taking in the shape I was in, "you need to see a doctor?"

"No, sir, I'm okay."

"Why don't you come with me. I'll give you a ride into town."

www

It was just around midnight by the time Gregg arrived. He ushered me to his SUV like some poor pitiful whelp, guess that was how I looked and it was certainly how I felt after two hours of waiting. Gregg put his arm around me, drawing me closer.

"Are you okay?"

"No. Not at all." Freaking tears let loose. Gregg got us in motion quickly.

"Let's get to my house and I'll patch you up."

At the sound of the same words my father spoke I let out a sob. It'd been a long day.

"Do you think you have a concussion?" Even Gregg knew my weeping was not in the least bit ordinary. Hell, that Lamia had kicked my ass before I killed her, but I still came up smiling. Gregg turned my face towards him. I let the weight of my head rest in his hand.

"No, sorry I got carried away. I'm tired and sore. I'm sure you'll make me feel better."

"Nurse Gregg to the rescue."

"You know they have costumes for role playing, we should get you one."

Gregg laughed a hearty laugh. "You haven't seen the inside of my closet."

"Don't hold out on me, man. You could have been my nurse all along, or did you have other plans?"

"Like a cowboy outfit?"

"No."

"Oh yeah!" We both laughed and the misery I'd been feeling over the fight with Dad seemed to disappear.

By the time we got to his house my whole body had stiffened up. Gregg proceeded to get me upstairs and into his over sized tub. God how I loved that tub. I soaked until the water grew cold. Gregg was there with anti-septics, bandages and an ice pack for my hand. He was a great nurse, even if he'd only teased me with ideas of a costume.

"Here." He handed me a glass filled with ice and whiskey. Contact with the glass sent shivers through me.

He placed a pillow under my knees and curled next to me. And all I could think was this was exactly how I wanted things to be. Why did it always have to be me to make the sacrifices for our family? Tears threatened again. For now I could pretend nothing changed. Gregg didn't press me for info about the fight Dad and I had. Conversation could wait until the morning, for now, I could pretend. I could be happy.


	13. Chapter 13: Brotherly Love?

Chapter Thirteen

The towel that was wrapped around my swollen hand was wet, but warm. The ice had melted away leaving an equally wet area on my comforter. That and the urge to piss dragged me from my bed. I was shuffling out of the bathroom when I heard the door open. "Sammy, you're home early." I ran a hand over my face. It'd been a long day, after Greg had dropped me off in the morning, mostly I'd tried to sleep, but I'd had way too many whiskey shots and no idea of the time. Given Sam's facial response it wasn't early at all.

"What? Are you _drunk_?" Sam stood in the doorway. "Dean, it's already past six." Then he got a real good look at me. Could see a silent alarm go off. It was a brother thing we'd always shared. "When'd you get home?" When had he my little brother grown so tall? He took up so much of the doorframe I could barely see that he'd brought home a guest. He probably thought I was still off with Dad. Damn, he'd want to know everything and have some heart to heart like friggin Oprah!

Behind him, just out of view, was what appeared to be a tiny girl, but on further inspection proved to be a hot young woman, and a different one from the last study session. How Sam had charmed the prom queen to follow him to their apartment was beyond his comprehension. Sam entered and motioned the girl inside.

"Dean, this is Katie. I asked her over to work on our forensics project."

I gave her credit for not looking shocked at my appearance. I desperately needed a shave and I was still lounging around in the sweats Gregg gave me the day before. And from the last glance I'd made in the bathroom mirror I was sure my eyes hadn't lost their bloodshot red-rimmed appearance, not when the words my father had spoken came back to me over and over again all day forcing me to react like a weak little child.

"Dean can I see you in the other room?"

The only other room was our bedroom. Sam shut the door behind us and whispered. "Did he hurt you? So help me god I'll kill him."

"Woah Sam." I hadn't seen Sam riled up in some time. "Nobody did this to me. It's not Gregg, if that's what you're thinking." Realization caused Sam's face to grow darker.

"Dad? He's behind this isn't he?"

I didn't respond. How could I just condemn my father to Sam. Dad was just trying to look out for me. When I didn't answer, Sam decided to fill in the blanks.

"That bastard! Running your life as always. Why didn't you stand up to him Dean? Dammit! When are you ever going to grow a spine when dealing with that man?" He realized his voice was too loud and he ran his hand through his hair as he always did when in thought or upset.

"Sorry Dean. S'not your fault Dad's a dick. But really dude, it's your life."

"Look, I gotta work on this project. It's due on Friday and it's worth a lot of points. We'll probably be like a couple of hours. Then I'll make dinner, 'kay?"

"I'll just hang in here. I'll take a nap."

"Dean." Sam touched Dean's arm lightly. "What'd you do to your hand?" He'd noticed the towel I'd wrapped around it.

"Nothing, just scraped it up. Tell you 'bout it later. Go, and don't act all uber-smart with her and scare her off. Let her see your other qualities and not just that freakish geek brain."

"Maybe she thinks my brain is sexy."

"Dude, you're never gonna get laid. Go" I opened the door and shoved Sam into the hallway.

A few hours later and I woke to a grumbling stomach. It had to be past eight by now and judging by the silence in the other room I guessed Sam's study partner had headed home.

I was wrong. I was so very wrong.

From where I stood I couldn't see much of Sam. The Barbie doll study date straddled my brother's lap and had her hands in that mop he called hair. His hands were hidden under her blouse. I cleared my throat and the girl sprang from Sam's lap to the floor like a shocked cat.

Katie, Amy, Amber, or whatever her name was, grabbed at the front of her blouse and began to stammer. "I'm so sorry. Oh my god, oh my god. Sam! Oh my god." Her fingers worked furiously to button up her top.

"Hey, no big deal." She mistook my smile for something more lascivious and it dawned on me. She was afraid, suddenly, that there were two men in the house. "Just going for another ice pack." From the kitchen I could hear them talking. Sam using that gentle persuasive voice that he had acquired as part of his voice maturing. I noticed he'd been using that tone more and more lately and was getting exactly what he wanted.

Katie, that was the name Sam used, had calmed. Katie followed Sam into the kitchen and gave me some worried phony smile.

"Lindsey would love this."

"Hmm?" I looked up from the fridge where I was hauling out supplies with my left hand. "What ya talking about?"

"You have, like groupies." Her voice matched her looks, all sugar and fake. "Girls that see you pull up to get Sam, they think you're cute."

"So what's new? I'm irresistible."

"And also taken." Was I ready for Sam to tell her that I wasn't available to date her friend because I was seeing a man?

"I'm seeing someone, so tell poor Lindsey, the man of her dreams is unavailable."

Sam's eyes rolled out of his head. "Give me that!" He grabbed at the mayo I had held in the crook of my arm. It fell to the floor, but thankfully was in plastic. Sam spied the towel wrapped around my hand again and gave it a hard stare. "_That_ get's x-rayed tomorrow."

"Oh, my brother's a doctor now." I sat across from sweet Katie and took a swig from my beer.

"Do I get one?"

"No, even genius here has to wait until he graduates. Not messing with his brain cells until he gets that 4.0. You a brainiac like him?"

"Hardly, I'm just in forensics with Sam. I know how to pick my partners." She couldn't see Sam's face, but I could, and I knew he was hurt. Sometimes when your reputation is one way, you just want people to see you for who you really are. God, I was practically poster boy for that one, that is if I could honestly and openly admit it. And that'd never be the case, now would it.

"When I walked in on you, didn't look like you were using his upstairs brain."

"Dean, that's enough. Food's done." He sat it before us at the table and the three of us ate in silence. I think I was the only one with an appetite and that was just cos I hadn't eaten much the day before.

"You know, you two make a cute couple." Sam shot me a look that said: _save it! _But I'm a little slow at taking warnings. "Isn't there like a homecoming dance coming up…"

"I have a boyfriend."

"He know 'bout this?"

"We had an arrangement."

"What happened here stayed here."

Realization entered my beer foggy skull. "Sam! What the hell are you thinking? You're prostituting your brain!"

Sam was fully mortified which displayed itself in full blown self-righteous anger. He stood, taking full advantage of his size, and laid into me.

"Who are you to talk? I've been nothing but supportive of _your _choices lately." He was treading a dangerous path now, and he could tell. "Katie and I know what this is. It's our business, just like your dating life is yours." I swallowed hard, and gave an unfriendly nod to Katie.

"I think I lost my appetite." My chair fell over as I got up too quickly and it stayed where it was. The night air was chilly now and the unmistakable smell of burning wood hung in the air. Somewhere in this part of the city a couple lounged before their fireplace, safe within each other's arms, accepted.

I had a feeling that might never be me.


	14. Chapter 14: Father Knows Best

**Chapter Fourteen**

"Sam get your hands off me, it's just a broken finger." Sam had been smothering me all morning. Once the doctor gave me anesthesia before positioning my finger and gave Sam charge of driving me home he'd been hovering over me. I'd never imagined he had it in him to be so overly protective.

Now I knew the real reason he'd been worried. Dad's truck sat in the parking lot, no Dad in sight.

"You didn't?"

"I did. He kept calling me wanting to know if you were all right. What was a I suppose to do?"

"Lie!" I pulled away from him and stomped to the door. Dad had a key, not that it mattered, he'd be inside one way or another if that was his desire.

I waited for Sam to open the door, my right hand useless in it's oversized splint. On the other side of the door stood Dad. Years of grief etched into his face. Plenty of gray hairs in his beard, gray hair I'd added to in the recent days.

"You look all right."

"They insisted on this splint, but it's just my finger."

"Sam mentioned they had to put pins in it."

"Yeh, and Sammy's got a big mouth. You didn't need to come here Dad. Things are fine." I felt okay, but a little off so I gave into the drugs that lingered in my system and took a spot on the couch. Dad, however, remained standing.

"You have a talk with your friend?" The shift of my eyes were all I needed to do to show Dad that hadn't happened.

"That why you're really here? To make sure the mission succeeds." Dad was his usual steely calm, but Sam made a face, shocked to hear me talk back to the old man.

"Sam will you make us some coffee?"

I pulled my feet up onto the couch and grabbed the cushions to prop up my hand, conscious that Dad now had the aggressor's position. I highly doubted he'd hit me if he spent time to come back to see me, even if this visit was all about getting me to leave Gregg.

We stayed like that not speaking until Sam returned with the coffee.

"Thanks Sam." Dad took the mug into his hands gravely. "Why don't you go out for a while. Let Dean and me talk." Though given politely, it was an order. Sam knew enough not to argue and I watched him gather up his books and head off to school leaving me to deal with Dad without a buffer.

"So, did you talk to that man yet?"

"His name is Gregg and he's the one that came out to Braymer to get me, he's the one that patched me up."

"Like a good friend should, but I gave you an order. And I know you might not like it, but it's for your own good. Look, I know you're more independent and mature than other guys your age, but you're still my kid, and you still have a lot to learn. I'm just tryin' to look out for you, to see the big picture. When this arrangement you and Sam have is over, what are you going to do then? Have you thought about that?"

Even if it was a girl, Dad would be asking that question. Why was I not allowed to fall in love? Was I doomed to never being able to settle down, is that what he was implying?

"Because I'm a hunter?" My stinkin' chin was wobbling like a child's. Freakin' pain killers making me fall apart. "I don't get to love anybody?" My voice had gone all soft like a little girl.

"I'm going to find that thing that killed your mother, then this will be all over. You can settle down and relax knowing it'll never hurt anyone of us again."

"What if that takes twenty years? What then, I'll be forty and more than half my life will be over. Why?"

"I don't have all the answers, but I need you Dean. Last week I was in Colorado, nearly got choked by a poltergeist. Got a lucky break when I was able to toss my lighter into its grave to burn it. Wouldn't have been that close a call if you'd been with me."

"We always have close calls." I muttered. He was right, I should have had his back, but I was too busy falling in love and living out a fantasy. Oh sure I could say this was all for Sam and that I was following my father's directive to protect my little brother, but this had become all about me now.

Dad had gotten up for more coffee when there was a knock on the door. We weren't expecting anyone, and it's not like Jehovah Witnesses canvassed the basement level of our seedy apartment complex. With my hand banged up it would be safer for me to open the door and have Dad at the ready.

But there was no reason to fear the person on the other side of the door. Not from my point of view at least. For me, the monster in this room was my dad.

Gregg stood at the threshold, face to face with my father.

You could say I didn't want Gregg there, not at this moment with my head fogged up on painkillers and my heart confused like a preteen girl at her first dance. And Dad, well, he always knew what to say to get his way. Sam was right. I didn't have a backbone. I just wanted to make everything all right.

Dad actually sat and motioned to the chair next to him at the kitchen table. After delivering Gregg a cup of coffee I just stood there, not sure where any of this was going.

There was very little small talk between them before Gregg launched into what he must have carefully crafted to say to my father. Dad listened, at least outwardly, but I knew how stubborn that man was, how adamant he'd been the day before in the truck when he told me what I had to do. No, Dad was being polite, letting Gregg have his word, but Dad already knew how this would go down, Gregg's opinion or not.

I think Gregg was sincere in his words. "This is who I am. It's not something I chose, it's just the way I was born. I'm not here to speak for Dean, these things, can be so complicated, but I'm not here to hurt him either. Dean's so…he's special to me. You really have a great son."

"I don't know why life goes this way, but I've known I was gay since I was like fourteen. This is not like, oh well let's find some innocent boy and corrupt him. No, I need an equal. That's Dean." Gregg's jaw was set. I'd seen that look before when he was convinced his ideas were right. He'd defend them to the end.

Dad looked rather uncomfortable. Which I took as a plus, hell, I'd have thought he'd look more disgusted hearing Gregg spill his soul, but Dad took it all in. Just wish I knew why.

"Gregg, I'm sure you're a nice guy and all, but this is my family you're tangled up with, my son's head you're messing with. And his future. I'm not about to let him wander around in public holding hands with you and kissing.

"Because it embarrasses you?" Did Gregg realize how his comments were lighting the fuse on a stick of dynamite?

The anger swelled in Dad, but it wasn't the same type he'd use with monsters or the possessed. He was controlled, cold. "Damn right, because Dean works in a career field that doesn't stand any weakness. Hunters are known for killing what's different. I've spent half my life protecting my sons, not just from the supernatural, but from others who might not understand. They were just babies when I started this fight, babies among warriors who weren't known for compassion. You don't have children; so you have no idea how it is to worry about them day and night. This isn't about what I need, it's for Dean's well being."

"You tell yourself that, but his safety gives you comfort, helps you to know you choose the right path for yourself and made the right choice in becoming a hunter. You think other people don't have bad shit happen to them? But not everyone decides to hunt it down. It's what you chose, not something your sons did. If you were thinking of their well being you wouldn't let them face monsters like that lamia, you'd keep them a million miles away. That's protecting your own. Not keeping them from a job, or a lover, or college."

At the mention of college I was worried Sam would be dragged into the conversation. Time to step in.

"Woah, guys." I held out my arms in a calming gesture as Dad rose to his feet.

Dad, as usual, continued on. "Don't tell me how to raise my sons…."

"They're adults, they have to make their own mistakes and learn from them, you can't …" Dad advanced on Gregg quickly and I thought for sure I'd see punches fly. Instead Gregg backed up a few feet and tensed. I moved between them.

"Will you two just stop it? I don't even know what you're arguing about." They would have to figure it out without me, I left them standing in their testosterone anger. I slammed the bedroom door behind me and headed to my bed.

WWW

Sam's hands were on my shoulders shaking me gently. "Wake up, you gonna sleep all day and all night? I glanced at the window and noticed it was dark, had to be after five. "I'll make you something to eat. Want toasted cheese and tomato soup?"

"Sammy, I have a broken finger, not a cold."

"I know, but you look awful. You been sleeping all day?"

"I took a couple pain pills and came in here for a nap."

"Dude, you're only suppose to take one! You feel okay?"

"I'll live. You talk to Dad at all?"

"No, what happened?"

"After you left Gregg came over. He didn't know Dad was here of course. It's interesting how much he reminds me of you."

"They got into a fight didn't they?"

"No punches, but plenty of angry words."

"I don't know if it's worth this Sam? It's so hard being me. Dad's too pissed to talk, I'm not used to him angry at me. Gregg's on my back about being honest to myself. And on top of it all there's your college secret. Why can't things just go back to the way they were?"

"Our lives aren't normal. But you can't wish to go back in time, things gotta change, people have to move on with their lives. You know I'm not leaving you forever, I just want a college education, then I can get a good job, make legitimate money, help the family out this way."

"You provide a convincing argument, become a lawyer."

"Actually, that's what I've been thinking."

"Can we not talk about this college thing right now. Dad gave me an order. He told me I had to leave Gregg, end it, he said. I don't want to, but part of me knows Dad has a point, and look what arguing got me." I lifted my hand in annoyance. "

"So, you're just gonna give in?"

"No, Sam, not give in, but do the right thing by Dad. He's got a point. And there's only room for one rebel in the family."

"Now you're just making excuses."

"Shut up Sam and go make me some dinner." I rolled over, putting my back to him. He got the hint. I wasn't kidding when I said there was only room for one rebel in the family; that was Sam's job. Me, I was the peacemaker. So I'd do what had to be done, just like always.


	15. Chapter 15: Thought I knew what love was

**Chapter Fifteen**

Over a month had passed since Dad's visit and he hadn't called me once. Sam was constantly leaving him messages that were never answered. I was due to start back with Charlie next week and then Sam could quit the part time job he'd taken at Walmart. Sam and I had used the down time to visit a few local colleges and make a road trip to see Stanford. When we drove down the Campus Drive I could tell it was love at first sight.

Christmas came to us hard and fast. We were swamped at work, putting snow tires onto panicked customers' cars left and right. If my freshly recovered hand ached, I'd take my painkillers and ice at night in private. I couldn't stand to be sitting around on my ass, and we couldn't afford it either.

Dad had made no contact still, but it wasn't like the old man to get all sentimental at the holidays anyways. I continued to see Gregg. It's what I wanted and without Dad's constant pressure, it was easy to forget his order. Plus, watching Sam prepare for college even though it would piss Dad off made me feel just a little bit more brave, not much, but enough to do what I wanted for a change.

With Christmas coming, a decision had to be made that Sam and I weren't prepared for. With Mom gone, we had never had a home and never a real Christmas. This year, we had a home. Don't get me wrong, we didn't put up a Christmas tree or hang mistletoe, but the time came when Gregg brought up the subject of how we would spend the holiday.

"Sam and me don't exchange presents. Not a big deal." I told him when he invited me and Sam over for Christmas eve.

"But you know I got you both something, and I want no complaints. You both deserve a little treat, and they're practical gifts."

So we found ourselves cozied around the fireplace at Gregg's house.

Gregg poured me more eggnog and I was beginning to feel the warmth from the rum. Sam sat comfy, his long legs folded beneath him. I think I had a buzz going on because looking at him made me all goofy and a threat of tears pricked at my eyes. There wasn't a Christmas I hadn't spent without him. And though I told Gregg we never exchanged presents, that wasn't totally true. There was that time, or was it the other, when Dad never showed, when Sam remembered me anyway. My eight year old brother gave me the amulet he'd intended for my father. The gentle touch of the leather cord teased at my neck right along with Gregg's fingers.

"This is the best." His lips brushed mine and I moved closer to his body. Being accepted by Sam was the greatest relief.

"I want to give Sam his gift." Sam perked up, looking much younger than his eighteen years. "I think you're gonna like it." Gregg handed over a box wrapped in silver paper.

Sam held it, reminding me of the little boy he used to be. "You want me to open it now?"

"Yeh, my family, we always opened the gifts on Christmas eve, after church."

"We never did church." Sam sulked. "Can I open it?" Sam wasn't looking uncertain like he did that Christmas I gave him the Barbie doll. The wrapping paper pealed off revealing cardboard packaging. Sam was no fool, he knew what lay within the box…a brand new laptop computer.

"This is too much. Thanks."

"You'll need this, now and next year at college. Dean, don't you dare complain. I told you I'd be practical."

"So what'd you get me?" I teased.

"Snow tires, of course."

WWW

"This is heavenly." Mama Simon drawled in that lazy Georgia accent she'd never let go of. "Sweetie, where'd you learn to make such a dish?"

"It's from the Paula Deen cookbook." Sam half choked on his mouthful of food.

"So you enjoy cooking, Dean?" I nodded, my mouth filled with sweet potatoes. "Wasn't Paula Deen on Oprah?"

"Yeh, that's where I heard of her."

"You watch Oprah?" Sam asked indignantly.

"Dude, Oprah's got a lot to say." My little brother's mouth hung open. "Really. I had a lot of time on my hands."

Dinner was over and Gregg's mother was slicing pie and his father pouring coffee when the doorbell rang. Gregg wandered off to get it, a piece of pumpkin pie hastily shoved into his mouth. I heard muffled noises and went there to see what was happening.

It wasn't good.

Dad stood in the doorway.

"Mr. Winchester come in."

Gregg's mom came to the door to find out what was going on. "Merry Christmas, you're just in time for pie." She was far too cheery, but it was Christmas, she was with her family, she'd had wine. Unfortunately Dad didn't reciprocate.

"Thank you, but I just need to talk with my son."

I headed out in the rain with Dad while the Simons took shelter inside. Dad wasted no time.

"I gave you an order a month ago and now you're having Christmas dinner? What's next, you move in with him? I told you to leave him."

"Yeh, well I didn't wanna."

My defiance caused Dad's face to fall into a dangerous look. "Dean, you, me, your brother, we're all we got. That's it. Son, don't tear this family apart."

"I'm not trying to Dad, I just…it's complicated."

"You're in love. God it sickens me to say it, but that's it isn't it?"

"Yes, but Dad…" He was turning making to leave. My stomach turned and a nervous prickle of anxiety rode over me. "Dad, don't go. Come in and have dinner and meet the Simons, they're good people."

"That's it. Parental meet and greet? No, Dean. I can't. If family means so much to you, then you know what has to be done. It's me, or him, but if you choose to go against your own father, know you won't be any son of mine, no more."

"Dad, no!" This time he did get into his truck and I ran after him. He disappeared around the corner, but I kept running. I didn't stop, what was the point? Dad hated me and Gregg was about to. There was nowhere to go.

The sound of an older style car horn made me jump. A very familiar black car pulled up alongside me. "Get in!" Sam yelled. I kept on jogging. "Now! Don't make me wrestle you into this car, you know I will; you know I can."

"Enough with the threats! Geez, unless you're on steroids or something, you aren't going to make me go anywhere. I got in, glad I'd replaced the heater core last year. She was warm and dry and the closest thing to home, but "she" was just a car. There were more important things.

"What'd that son of a bitch say to you?"

"Easy Sam, that's our father you're talking about."

"Yeh, who probably said _my way or the highway_ and left you out here just like he did last month."

"It's not your business Sam."

"Like hell it isn't. Dean, he's got no right. You're happy. Don't let him take that from you."

I just looked at him sadly. My decision had been made.

WWW

Breaking up on a holiday is all kinds of taboo, so I headed home with Sam and gave Gregg a quick call. Told him I drank and ate a little too much and was going to lie down. Our talk could wait until tomorrow. Let him enjoy his Christmas with family.

Gregg wasn't working on December 26th. So I drove over to have "the talk". It was still raining as Gregg ran out to take shelter in my car. We drove around for awhile just talking about everything and nothing at all, and that whole time my stomach was in knots. Finally I'd pulled back into Running Deer Lane, Gregg's house in sight. The moment poised to happen.

"So are you gonna tell me what went on with your dad yesterday or are we going to pretend it never happened and have uncomfortable silences until-"

"He means well." I interrupted. "He's just being a dad."

"If you were a kid I'd respect that, but you are very much a responsible adult, so don't give me that shit. What'd he say?"

I looked outside the driver's side window. It was pouring, the sky a whitish grey of winter, would this have mattered if the sun was shining? Why was the weather mirroring my sadness like some Keats poem? When I faced Gregg I saw an anger that covered his hurt. That man had loved me, maybe still did, maybe carried the illusion that long term and Dean Winchester could be found together. I was about to let him go, one of the best things I ever had. Something that I chose, something just for me.

"You know how important family is to me. My dad, Sammy, they're all I got. I don't want to do this. I care too much for you, but I'm not the kind of man you need. You don't need some dumb drop out who kills supernatural shit for free. You need someone like you. I can't do this. I can't go against my dad. He's my dad. Gregg-"

"Just stop. It's clear, your dad made you choose. I don't need an explanation, I get it. You don't have what it takes. You can't live out, but Dean, you're not straight. Sooner or later you'll need to tell yourself the truth, dad be damned. But me, I can't wait around, can't be part of that confusion. I was right. You're too afraid to be who you really are." He opened the door quickly.

"Wait!" I was pleading. "I'm sorry, this isn't what I wanted."

"That's your problem. You don't know what you want, and when you do figure it out." His voice took on a sarcastic tone. "I doubt you'll do anything about it." He slammed the door on me and was in the house before I knew it. For a minute I sat there stunned. He was pissed, couldn't blame him, and me? I was John Winchester's obedient little soldier, again.

WWW

Everything fell apart. It took Charlie almost three weeks before he realized I was drinking on the job. There were no accidents, but my usual efficiently was gone. When Charlie called me to task on it and I told him to stick it where the sun don't shine, I was shown the door. Sam was furious, but clueless as to how to help me. So I left his ass and drove east until I got to Virginia Beach. Thought about drowning myself in the ocean, decided to live, and was headed back towards Missouri when Dad called.

"You satisfied?" I asked, trying desperately to piss him off, to get some reaction beyond his silent disappointment. Some beach creeper had sold me a half dozen vicodin and I was feeling fine when I answered the old man. He sounded tired, in pain, cryptic as always. Despite my medicated bliss I worried, asked him where he was. Ohio, an easy day trip from Virginia and I was on my way. He needed my help with a hunt. Maybe if I showed I still had it as a hunter he'd forget what happened in Kansas City, maybe he'd see me as a hunter, a peer. I'd make him proud of me again; make him forget I defied him. There was room for one rebel in the family. It wasn't me.


	16. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

_November 5, 2002_

Last year was only the beginning of Sam's drive for independence. After a graduation that none of us attended, he announced he'd been accepted at Stanford. He was leaving us.

Sam was always going to be his own man.

Me, I was back with Dad, hunting all the evil sons a bitches we could find. It felt good, helping people. So did all the meaningless sex with nameless women. Filled a void, not that I'd ever admit that out loud. And with Sam gone off to college, I was one big empty.

A hunt brought me within 100 miles of KC, and something made me head for that pretentious community on Running Deer Lane.

Gregg looked just as he did a year ago, his handsome features still flawless, hair glossy and dark, shirt just a little too tight around his muscular frame. And apparently still single.

I didn't even know why I was there. Gregg welcomed me in, definitely surprised to see me on his door step. What was to be a pitstop ended up lasting the weekend, but neither of us held on to any illusion that I'd overcome my guilt and fear and stand up to my father. Monday morning came, and Gregg, being a normal civilian, had to head to work. As he walked me to the door, he stopped me and gave me one last kiss. It was tender, but demanded nothing of me.

"Here, I want you to have this." His eyes were just a little moist as he slid the silver ring he always wore onto my finger.

"To remember you by?"

"No, this is for you. To remind you to be true to yourself. So when you see that ring, you'll think about what it is that Dean Winchester really wants for his life. So you'll put yourself first once in a while. That's what I want you to remember."

Lingering at his doorway any longer was not going to make this any easier.

"Thanks, I love it." I turned quickly and made for the car. As I eased her out of his driveway, I glanced back at the door. He was no longer there.

A/N: I began this story during season 4 and had most of it either done or framed out prior to season 5, but I just didn't post it. So, what I'm trying to say is that I came up with Dean having a GED. When I saw that in the show I cheered! I also found it pretty ironic that Dean stops wearing his ring after "Changing Channels" when we see that he is pretty smitten by a man, Dr. Sexy.

If you've read, favored, followed, or commented, THANKS! It's been fun!


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